


Caleb's Sacrifice

by dementorsatemysoup



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Because He Is Totally Keeping An Eye on Jester's Mom, Canon-Typical Violence, Friendship, Gen, I go a little loosey goosey with magic, Memories, Past Relationship(s), Scars, Self-Sacrifice, The Traveler Makes An Appearance, because why not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-03-20 17:44:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 41,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18997435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementorsatemysoup/pseuds/dementorsatemysoup
Summary: After a tip from The Traveler, The Nein race to get to Nicodranas before Astrid and Eodwulf can harm Marion and Luc. In an effort to keep them and his friends safe, Caleb gives himself up.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> markwatneythespacepirate said: because i am a sucker for them: something with the blumenthal kids? maybe caleb giving himself up to them to save marion and luc?
> 
> Was this what you were expecting? Probably not. But here we are. Thank you for the prompt and for reading this in general. And drop me a comment if you can.
> 
> Bye!!

Jester is idly wandering around the house, rearranging things because she knows it drives Beau and Fjord crazy, when The Traveler whispers in her ear, telling her she should really check on her mama.

“Okay, okay, okay,” she whispers, clutching her holy symbol. “Hey, Mom, it’s Jester. Is everything okay? The Traveler told me to message you, and I hope you’re doing well. Please respond, okay. Love you.”

It takes a moment longer than usual, and Jester feels a pit solidify in her stomach when her mother’s frantic voice answers, “ _Jester, the girl and the boy you told me about are here. I saw them walk by the Chateaux from my window. Who are...?”_   The message cuts off before her mother can continue and Jester hurries towards the library to inform Caleb. She briefly notices Nott and Yeza tinkering with something in the lab, but neither one pay her any attention and she doesn’t offer any.

Caleb looks up from his half drawn transportation circle when she bursts into the room, chalk smudges on his hands and face. He furrows his eyebrows when he sees the look on her face and hangs his head.

“She’s seen them.” It’s not a question.

Jester nods.

He lets out a resigned breath, shakily getting to his feet, and nods. “Okay. Okay, let me, let me finish this and we’ll-” he runs his hands down his pants, pacing across the floor. He stops suddenly, turning to Jester, and asks, “Can you message Yussa? Let him know I’m coming.”

“You’re going alone?” Jester exclaims, alarmed, her voice alerting Nott and Yeza from the other room.

“What’s going on?” Nott bursts into the room, crossbow already in hand, while Yeza peeks around the corner from the lab.

“Astrid and Eodwulf,” Caleb answers, crouching down to finish his circle.

“Already?”

Caleb nods, no longer paying attention to the trio, trying to finish his work as carefully and quickly as possible.

“Caleb wants to go alone,” Jester tells Nott and she lets out an indecipherable shriek.

“Vethy, please put the crossbow down,” Yeza calls faintly, watching it carefully as Nott swings it in the air.

“You’re not going on your own,” Nott screams, ignoring Yeza’s request, stalking across the room to tower over Caleb.

“I have to.” He doesn’t look up from his work, but his shoulders tense the closer Nott gets, almost as if she alone is the only one who can talk him out of this; and knowing their relationship, Jester wouldn’t be surprised if that’s true.

“Not by yourself!”

Nott’s hollering gets the rest of the house’s attention, and soon everyone is crammed in Caleb’s library, four sets of eyes looking at Nott, Jester, and Caleb for answers. Yeza murmurs something about giving them space and hurries out of the room.

“What the hell is goin’ on?” Fjord asks curiously, one hand raised like he’s ready to start blasting anyone untrustworthy that should come into this library.

“Caleb is going after Astird and Eodwulf on his own,” Nott responds sharply, her hands on her hips.

“Like hell he is,” Beau snaps, glaring down at Caleb. “There’s no goddamn way we’d let you go on your own.”

“You don’t have much choice,” Caleb says, tracing more patterns into the rug. “I’m the one casting the spell, not you, and I control who comes with me.”

“Yasha, pick him up,” Fjord says and Yasha nods, moving forward. She grabs Caleb under the arms, ignoring his surprised yelp, and pulls him away from his mostly finished circle.

Caleb swears in Zemnian, struggling in Yasha’s grip, his feet barely brushing the wooden floor. “Put me down.”

“Not until you listen to reason.” Fjord moves forward, stopping short of Caleb, and says, “You’re not going alone. They will kill you.”

“You cannot stop me.” Caleb lowers his voice so only Fjord can hear him, adding, “You can’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same if Uk’otoa came after Jester or Beau or any one of us.”

He sees Fjord flinch, but his voice remains calm when he says, “Caleb, remember what you said to me? About this group being family? That applies to you, too. We’re all gonna go, whether you like it or not. We’re not losing you, too.” He turns away from Caleb, addressing the rest of the party. “Get the shit you need and meet us back here in ten. We’re going back to the coast.”

Everyone disperses except for Yasha, Fjord, and Nott. Before he leaves, Caduceus looks down at Caleb and says, “This is not the path for you, Mister Caleb. It can’t be.”

“Then what is?” The words come out harsher than he expected, but Caleb can’t take them back now.

Caduceus doesn’t react to his tone. He keeps his own tone calm when he says, “Anything but this. There are causes to die for but this isn’t one of them. We’ll get Miss Jester’s mother, and Miss Nott’s little boy if he’s there, but together. You can’t do everything alone.”

Caleb sees something flicker in Fjord’s eyes at Caduceus’ words, but he doesn’t respond. With a final bow of his head, Caduceus leaves the room.

“I can’t finish the circle if I’m hanging here,” Caleb informs Fjord, impatient and a little irritated.

After a brief nod from Fjord, Yasha lowers Caleb to the floor, but she hovers over him as he finishes his circle. So do Fjord and Nott, all three having the same idea. Grab Caleb should he attempt to teleport from the room. His irritation grows.

By the time the others return, his has finished his circle. Jester is finishing up a message to Yussa, letting him know they’re on their way, and Nott is hugging Yeza goodbye.

They all gather onto the circle, Caleb front and center. He can’t help muttering, “They will kill you all and your blood would be on my hands.”

“And your’s would be on ours if we let you go alone,” Caduceus murmurs back, one hand gently squeezing Caleb’s shoulder. He releases Caleb a few seconds later, addressing the others, “Everyone’s feet inside the circle? Nobody needs to use the restroom? Good. Mister Caleb, let’s go.”

The last thing they see if Yeza’s little wave before Caleb mutters a few words under his breath. There’s a swooping feeling in his stomach, followed by the feeling of being sucked backwards, and he feels a small hand grab his seconds before the spell takes hold and they vanish from the library.

* * *

 

Yussa greets them the moment they appear in his tower, ushering them down the steps and into his sitting room. His goblin friend offers them tea, but they wave it off (except for Caduceus who graciously accepts it), quickly explaining what’s going on, leaving out the details he doesn’t need to know, and by the time they’ve finished he looks perturbed.

“This man…?” he trails off, looking at Caleb. “What was his name again?”

“T-Trent Ikithon,” Caleb responds softly, wringing his hands. Even after all these years, he still can’t shake off the oily feeling he gets in his gut every time he says his name.

“Ikithon?” Yussa mulls over the name, his brow furrowed. “I don’t recall that name.”

“Trust us, he’s not a good man,” Fjord says before Caleb can respond, shifting his weight so he’s practically standing in front of him; despite his irritation towards the man, Caleb welcomes the shield.

“And he’s sending his assassins after Miss Lavorre because….?” Yussa looks between each member of The Nein, waiting, looking for something.

There’s a shift throughout the group, a few pairs of eyes darting towards Caleb before looking away, but it’s Caduceus who speaks up. He steps forward, standing next to Fjord, another shield for Caleb, and he says, “This man, he has the ability to harm. And he may have information that could potentially put Jester’s mother in danger. There’s also a boy, Luc, who might also be in danger. This man has been known to manipulate children, causing them pain if they don’t do what he wants, and we’d very much like to avoid this if we can.”

“One of you,” Yussa trails off, his eyes settling on Caleb. “He’s done this to you, hasn’t he?”

Caleb fiddles with his coat sleeves, shuffling his feet. He draws in a breath, letting it out slowly, and steps forward, leaving the safety of his two shields. He pushes his sleeves up, revealing his arms, and says, “Ja, he has. He has done this to me.”

Yussa studies the scars for a long moment before looking up to face the rest of The Nein, his face unreadable. He takes a few minutes to think everything over before nodding, gesturing towards the stairs with his head.

“If you can get them both back here, you’re more than welcome to use my teleportation circle to get them to safety.”

They agree, already heading towards the door. Yussa follows them out, stopping in the threshold, and watches them disappear into the crowd.

* * *

 

“Alright,” Fjord starts, picking up the pace, “let’s split up. Caleb, Jester, and I will go in through the front. Yasha, Beau, Cad, and Nott sneak in through the back. Keep an eye out, and message us the moment you see either one of these fucks.”

They nod, going their separate ways, Nott anxiously looking back at Caleb before hurrying to catch up with her group. When they get closer to her mother’s establishment, Jester ducks into an alleyway to change her appearance. When she emerges, she’s wearing her human Jester disguise, and she gives each one a worried smile. Fjord returns it, Caleb does not, and the trio hurry onward.

They’re nearly 30 feet from the door when they skid to a halt. A dark haired man stands outside of the Lavish Chateaux, his beefy arms crossed, his eyes scanning the area. Fjord feels Caleb stiffen up beside him, and he reaches out, tapping his wrist.

“That him?” he asks softly.

Caleb nods.

“Alright. Jester, you go inside. We’ll keep an eye on him. Let us know if she’s inside.”

Jester nods, nervously grabbing for her holy symbol, but stopping herself when she realizes that'll give her disguise away. She lets out a slow breath, steeling herself, and moves towards the door. The guy, Eodwulf, watches her walk by but he doesn’t interact with her, his gaze returning to the area around the building.

“Think we could lure him away?” When Caleb doesn’t respond, Fjord turns to see him fiddling with his copper wire, muttering to himself. He wraps it around his index finger, unwraps it, wraps it again. He’s visibly shaking, barely breathing, his usually pale face a sickly grey. He looks a lot like he does when he uses fire to kill an enemy, and it’s worrying Fjord.

“Hey.” He grabs Caleb’s arms, shaking him a little, bringing him back to reality. “Listen, there’s time for that later, alright? Right now, we need to get Jester’s mom and Luc out of this, and I need you here. We can’t do this without you. Like Cad said, you’re the solution, and we need to come up with a plan.” He points back at Eodwulf. “One that gets him away from Astrid. I have a feeling they’re stronger together, right?”

Mutely, Caleb nods.

“Alright…” Fjord trails off when Jester’s voice whispers in his ear.

 _“Fjord, I don’t see her. Could she be disguising herself? Ask Caleb. The others are here; I told them about Eodwulf. Nott wants to kill…_ ” the message cuts off, but Fjord gets the idea.

“We’re gonna try to get him away from the door. Keep a lookout.” He returns his gaze to Caleb and calmly asks, “Astrid have the ability to disguise herself? Jester says she’s not inside.”

Caleb drops his copper wire into his pocket, crossing his arms. He hunches his shoulders, somehow making himself look smaller than he already does, and murmurs, “I-I don’t. She didn’t when we were…” he closes his eyes, memories flooding back to him, and he would have staggered back had Fjord not still been holding his arm.

_Astrid wanted them to remember her face. Eodwulf had insisted they learn some form of shapeshifting ability, but she wanted them to see her. Her victims needed her face to be the last thing they saw._

_“I’m killing them. I want them to know me.”_

_“You’re being stubborn and you know it.”_

_“Am I? Am I, Wulfie? What do you think Bren? Am I being stubborn?”_

_They’d always looked to him whenever they had an argument. Bren the tie-breaker. Astrid always expected him to take her side, and sometimes he did, but this time he’d been on Eodwulf’s side._

_Astrid hadn’t liked that; she stormed out. He still remembered the way the door slammed when she she left the room. Dust raining down onto the old carpet. The smirk on Eodwulf’s face when he said, “That attitude is going to get her killed one day.”_

“...Caleb? Caleb?” Fjord is shaking him again, and he shakes his head, pushing aside the memory. “You in there? You spaced out again.”

“She, she wanted to be remembered,” he said faintly, ignoring Fjord’s concern. “She used to fear, when we were kids, that she wouldn’t do anything meaningful with her life. She needed them to remember.”

Fjord takes in the information, processing the important stuff, setting the rest aside for the moment, and nods. “Alright. So, she’s probably herself…”

Caleb nods.

“And fucknut over there?”

“He, he usually disguises himself. It doesn’t. It doesn’t make sense why he wouldn’t…” his eyes widen when he sees the necklace resting on Eodwulf’s chest, the sun catching it just right. It’s an exact replica to the one around his own neck.

“No,” he whispers clutching at the amulet. “Nein, this isn’t. This is supposed…” He turns in a half circle, Fjord’s hands releasing him, and looks around the area. “She. She knows. They know we’re here.”

“What do you mean? How?” Caleb tries to walk away from Fjord, but he grabs his wrist, halting his progress. “Caleb, what the fuck? Talk to me.”

Caleb whirls around, shoving the amulet in Fjord’s face. “This is supposed to keep me hidden, but he-” he gestures to Eodwulf. “-is wearing one, too. There’s a chance they’ve been…” he feels faint and Fjord catches him when he starts to fall to the ground. “You’re in danger.”

“Alright. Fuck this.” Fjord turns, his eyes settling on Eodwulf, and he fires two blasts of Eldritch energy at him, both impacting and sending Eodwulf back a step.

“What are you doing?” Caleb hisses but Fjord ignores him, sending two more blasts at Eodwulf. This time he dodges out of the way, clutching his bleeding chest, his blue eyes zeroing in on Fjord. He looks past Fjord, his head tilting to the side, and a look of recognition crosses his face. He smiles.

Fjord grabs Caleb’s hand and yells, “Run!”

They sprint in the opposite direction of the Lavish Chateaux, Fjord checking over his shoulder to make sure Eodwulf is following them. When he sees him give chase, he turns to Caleb and says, “Tell Nott to get Luc and Marion to Yussa’s. We’ll meet them there later.”

“This is a stupid idea,” Caleb snaps but he’s already removed his wire from his pocket. “We’ve been made. Get to Yussa’s tower by any means necessary. We’ll meet you there. If we’re not there by nightfall just go.” He puts the wire away, flinching when Nott replies, but he trusts she’ll do what needs to be done.

A woman steps out from the shadows, blocking their path, and both skid to a halt. Fjord feels Caleb go still, the breath catching in his throat, and he knows exactly who this woman is; he steps in front of Caleb.

“You Astrid?” he asks gruffly.

Her smile is cruel, her dark eyes shining with malice. “I don’t know you, but I’d like to.”

“Leave. Leave him alone,” Caleb says from behind Fjord, his voice barely audible.

Astrid’s eyes settle on Caleb and he smile grows into a feral grin. “It’s so good to see you, Bren. Trent said you’d come back to us, and he wasn’t wrong.”

“You touch him…” his words cut off suddenly and Fjord clutches his throat. His voice is gone.

“We’re speaking, beast. Shut your mouth or I’ll cut your tongue out,” Astrid snaps, casting the spell effortlessly and with hardly a twitch of her hand.

“Leave him alone,” Caleb repeats, his fingers tightening around Fjord’s wrist as he casts dispel magic. He squeezes him twice, hoping he gets the message, and releases him, turning his gaze onto Astrid.

Astrid frowns. “You’ve changed, Bren. There was a time you wouldn’t hesitate to remove this _stain_ from the world.”

Caleb feels Fjord shift, can hear Eodwulf’s footsteps getting closer, but he doesn’t react to either man, keeping his eyes on Astrid. There’d been a time she’d been everything to him; now as he looks at her he just feels hollow, cold.

“There was a time that I loved you,” he says softly, counting Eodwulf’s steps. He’s nearly there; maybe ten feet away. “And I. And I dreaded seeing you again fearing those feelings would return. Fearing that I would betray my friends to be with you one more time.”

“But?”

“But now I feel nothing for you.” Astrid’s face goes dark just as Eodwulf approaches them, and Caleb grabs Fjord's hand.

The falchion appears in his other hand, a splash of water cascading over Astrid, and Fjord slams the sword into the ground, sending a shockwave of thunder into Astrid and Eodwulf as he casts Thunderstep.

* * *

Fjord appears outside of Yussa’s tower alone. Frantically, he looks around for Caleb, icy cold dread settling in his gut. He feels something against his palm, looking down to see Caleb’s amulet and his transmuter stone clutched in his hand. He starts to head in the direction he’d left Caleb, but a flash lights up the sky and he stops. They’re gone.

He looks at the two items again, curling his hand around them. They have a way to track him; they’re going to find him, and when they do he’s putting his falchion through Trent’s neck.

He still owes Caleb a favor, after all; he’s ready to start repaying that debt.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted this all to be one chapter, but my attention span realized just how much editing that would require so... this is going to be a three part story. Also, I'm starting to write in circles, so I figured I'd get what I have out now and start fresh tomorrow.
> 
> So, I am so excited you all seemed interested in a second chapter, and I'm actually really excited for how this is turning out, and I thank each and every one of you for leaving a comment or kudo. It's really appreciated.
> 
> Thank you for reading and I will try to have chapter three done before Thursday (I kinda want this story done before the new episode... but it's me so we'll see)
> 
> Bye!!!

**NOW...**

The room is small and windowless. Two candles flicker from their sconces on either side of the door, casting shadows across the stone walls. The chair he sits in, wooden and uncomfortable, creaks every time he moves, and he’s lost count of the number of times he’s wiped sweat off his brow.

The guard had left him in here hours ago without a word. Fjord had asked over and over about his friends, but his charm hadn’t done him any good. The less they give him the more irritated he gets, and he can feel the ever present fury bubbling towards the surface warring with the anxiety that has settled in his stomach.

He keeps expecting a message from Jester, but unless she's slept he knows she doesn't have the energy to cast Sending. Nott has the ability to use Message whenever she wants, but the last time he’d seen her everything had been on fire. The only other person who can message him had been carried away on a stretcher towards the hospital while he, Jester, and Caduceus had been hauled off in chains. He wonders where Beau and Yasha ended up. He hopes they’re alive. And safe.

This whole rescues mission had been a shitshow from the beginning. Like most of their plans this one had been halfcocked, their innate habit of winging it getting the best of them, and what little planning they actually had fell apart the moment they arrived in Rexxentrum.

Their party caught the guards’ attention within minutes of entering the city. After weeks of living in Xhorhas, Fjord had almost forgotten how the empire treated non-humans, and he’d be lying if he said he missed the suspicious looks and conspicuous whispers.

They’d relied on Beau and Yasha to do the talking, they were humans after all, but Beau gave off “guard” vibes and Yasha scared the locals. To make matters worse, the people they convinced to talk to them immediately shut down when they brought up the academy. It’s a miracle they even made it into the building.

Fjord doesn’t want to think about what happened inside the academy. At least not yet.

The door slowly opens and Fjord sits up straight, watching warily as a guard walks into the room. He carries a cup of water, sitting it down in front of Fjord, and takes a seat across from him, resting his hands on the table.

“Have you heard from my friends?” Fjord asks curiously, ignoring the water.

The guard nods. “The two clerics are in the room next door. Neither one have been helpful. The giant woman…”

“Yasha? You found Yasha?”

“Is that her name?” The guard’s lip curls in displeasure and he looks away from Fjord. “We’ve confiscated her weapon and locked her in a cell. She attacked two of our guards.”

Fjord chooses not to respond, but he’s not opposed to breaking Yasha out of jail. “What about Caleb?”

“The injured one?” He waits for confirmation before continuing, “He’s currently being healed by one of our clerics, and we will be questioning him as soon as he regains consciousness.”

“And Beau and Nott?”

The guard raises an eyebrow. “Who?”

“A monk woman and a gob…” Fjord catches himself. “A halfling girl. They were in the building with us. Have you found them?”

“We’re still searching the rubble, but I’m sure they’ll turn up.”

Something icy slithers into Fjord’s stomach. _The rubble?_ The guards were searching the rubble? Nott and Beau could be buried under stone and wood, suffocating, and he’s stuck here, with this jerkhole, unable to help them. They could die. How is he going to explain to Caleb that Nott and Beau are gone? Yasha and Caduceus might be able to handle the news a bit better, but they weren’t the ones being rescued. And he doesn’t want to think about Jester’s reaction.

 _Stop it,_ he tells himself. _They’re fine._ He’s jumping to conclusions before he even has all the facts.

“Are you listening to me?” the guard asks, impatiently snapping his fingers in Fjord’s face.

He shakes his head, clearing away his unwanted anxieties. They’ll be time for that later.

He adopts his most cordial voice and says, “Sir, I want nothing more than to cooperate with you. Please, tell me how I can help.”

The guard crosses his arms, studying Fjord. “What were you doing at the academy?”

“Our friend Caleb had been kidnapped by certain members of the academy.” Fjord chooses his words carefully, sprinkling in enough truth to keep the guard’s suspicions low. “He’d been a former student, but a difference of opinion between him and a teacher caused him to dropout. We don’t know what his former teacher wanted from him, but he’d been grabbed from his bed during the night while we were staying in Alfield.”

“How did you find him?”

“His amulet. We used it to track him.” Fjord pulls it from his pocket, setting it on the table. “It’s an old family heirloom. He never takes it off.”

“Is it?” the guard picks it up, studying it carefully. “Interesting. He must come from a rather large family. Several academy students have been known to wear amulets such as this one.”

Fjord falters for a second, but he easily rectifies his lie, “That’s what he told us. I guess he’d been lying about that. I can see why if it held such horrible memories for him.”

“Yet he continued to wear it?”

“A reminder, perhaps. I don’t know. I haven’t known him very long.”

“And yet here you are, in the heart of Rexxentrum, staging a botched rescue mission.” The guard drops the amulet back onto the table, giving Fjord a tired look. “Let me tell you what I think happened. I think your friend ended up where he wasn’t supposed to be. I think you and your merry bands of halfwits went in after him, and in your haste to get him out of trouble, one of you set fire to the academy. Stop me when I get something wrong.”

Fjord plasters a charming smile on his face. “Sir, if I may be frank with you, we had no intention of coming to the academy. In fact, Caleb has wanted nothing to do with the place since I met him. So to imply that he would willingly walk into that building is a bit of an insult to him.”

“I am just trying to figure out what happened.”

“And I told you,” Fjord responds forcing back his irritation. “A man is taken by people he wants nothing to do with. He’s locked away in a dungeon; starved and tortured for days only to end up with a dagger in his gut. And you have the audacity to treat him like he’s a suspect.”

“The Soltryce Academy is a pile of ashes!”

“It deserves to be!” Fjord exclaims, unable to keep his anger at bay any longer. He’s not aware he stood up until his chair clatters into the floor. Had he still had his magic, he would have summoned the falchion, but his hand stays stubbornly weaponless. He grits his teeth.

The guard gets up, his hand hovering near his sword, and he says, “Sit down. Now.”

Fjord takes a few controlling breaths. Once he’s a bit calmer, he stoops down to pick up his chair. He sits back down, glaring at the table.

The guard waits a handful of seconds before returning to his own seat. A tense silence fills the room. A dull pounding starts above Fjord’s left eye and he rubs his forehead. If he’d just made sure Caleb had been with him when he had cast Thunderstep none of this would be happening; this is all his fault.

“I want to help you,” the guard says softly. “Tell me what happened.”

Fjord sighs. “Alright…”

* * *

**THEN…**

Fire. _Thud_. Drink. Reload. Fire. _Thud._ Drink. Reload. Fire. _Thud_. Drink. Reload.

Nott has been taking pot shots at one of Beau’s training dummies for hours. Jester, Caduceus, and Yeza have tried to get her to eat something, but she keeps waving them off. She told them she had to be ready for when they found Caleb. She wanted her aim to be true when she pumped Trent, Astrid, and Eodwulf full of arrows.

She’s been drinking since they got back.

Fire. _Thu_ d. Drink. Reload. Fire. _Thud_. Drink. Reload. Fire. _Thud_. Drink. Reload. Fire. _Thu_ d. Drink. Reload.

It’s become like a mantra.

Fjord watches her from the doorway. She knows he’s there, he’d caught her looking over at him when he appeared in the threshold, but she refuses to acknowledge him. He wonders if she blames him for what happened to Caleb. He wouldn’t argue with her if she did; he already blames himself.

From the war room, he can hear Caduceus and Jester quietly talking about who’s going to attempt to scry on Caleb first. From upstairs, Fjord hears agitated pacing; Beau. She’s like a caged animal. He understands how she’s feeling. He’s useless with the scrying stuff, but he needs something to do; anything.

Yasha sits on a bench on the opposite side of the room. She’s watching Nott worriedly, her sword laying next to her, cleaning rag held tightly in her hands. She twists it; untwists it; twists it again. She’s in the same boat as all of them. This is a waiting game none of them are prepared to play.

“I shouldn’t have sent that letter,” Nott says suddenly, dropping her crossbow to the floor. She hangs her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. “That stupid fucking letter.” In a fit of rage, she grabs her flask off her hip and throws it at the wall. It crashes against the stone, landing on the floor with a quiet thump. The cap comes loose, spilling alcohol all over the carpet. It's going to make a puddle if someone doesn't pick it up soon; nobody bothers.

She storms out of the room, pushing past Fjord. He reaches out, attempting to stop her, wanting to comfort her if he can, but she dodges out of his grasp and disappears into the kitchen. He sees Yeza peek out from the “happy” room and quickly follow her; he’ll make sure she’s okay.

“This has been a long day,” Yasha comments, picking at the corner of her cleaning rag.

“Yep.” Fjord moves across the room, sinking onto the bench next to Yasha, holding back a wince when a dull ache starts above his eye again.

“Should we ask Jester to try sending Caleb another message?” Yasha asks softly, staring at her lap.

“He didn’t respond the last two times,” Fjord says leaning forward onto his elbows. He rests his chin on his clasped hands, staring forlornly at the floor.

“I know, but it’s worth a try.” Yasha shrugs, putting the rag to the side.

Fjord nods. “You know, he’s usually on the same page as me. I’ll start some half-baked shit, and he’ll jump on board. No hesitations. Maybe I should have understood his plan a bit better; could have stopped him or something.”

“I think he was going to stay behind whether you knew about his plan or not. For a man who claims to be a bad person, he has a good heart.”

“But if that good heart gets him killed…”

“We’ll find him before it does.” Yasha stands, patting his shoulder. “Beau has vowed to kill him when we do, and who are we to stand in the way of that.”

Fjord huffs, amused, and shakes his head. “I think she’ll have to get in line. Nott might beat her to it.”

“Perhaps.”

Yasha picks her sword up, puts it back in its sheath, and walks out of the room. The moment the door closes behind her, Fjord rubs the spot above his eye. He’s been fighting a headache ever since they returned from Yussah’s. He has an idea who’s behind it, the taste of sea water lingering in the back of his throat, but he ignores it.

He doesn’t have time for Uk’otoa’s petty bullshit.

He hears Jester calling his name and he stands up, following her voice into the war room. She is sitting in the middle of the table, Caleb’s amulet in one hand, her holy symbol in the other. Caduceus sits next to her with the transmuter stone between his hands, his eyes closed, humming softly under his breath.

“Any luck?” Fjord asks looking between the two.

“I tried sending another message, but he still didn’t respond,” Jester replies looking down at the amulet. “We’re about to try and scry for him, but we are not sure which would work best.”

“Too bad we didn’t have his cat,” Caduceus says, rolling the stone against his palms.

“I suspect his cat is wherever he goes when Caleb sends him away,” Fjord says watching the two clerics closely. “If I were to wager a guess, I think the amulet would do us better than the stone.”

“You think?” Caduceus opens his eyes, nodding slowly. “Yes, I can see why you’d say that. Miss Jester, go ahead and scry.”

Jester nods, gripping both amulet and holy symbol in her hands, and closes her eyes. She whispers something to her god, too quiet for Fjord to make out, but her eyelids suddenly snap open. A misty green clouds her vision, and what little Fjord can see of her eyes move rapidly back and forth. They’ve seen her scry enough to know this is normal; the Traveler has taken the wheel and Jester is along for the ride.

Both Caduceus and Fjord watch her for a long moment before she blinks rapidly, coming out of the vision. She’s frowning, shaking her head slowly back and forth. She puts the amulet and holy symbol to the side, chewing on her lip.

“What’d you see?” Fjord asks after a beat.

Jester sighs. “He’s in a dark room, but I don’t think he’s awake. I couldn’t see anything and he wasn’t moving.”

“Drugged?” Fjord looks to Caduceus who shrugs.

“Possibly. It could explain why he won’t answer Miss Jester’s messages. He’s unable to.” Caduceus looks perturbed. “It’s going to be a lot harder to find him if they’re keeping him unconscious.”

Fjord and Jester share a worried look before he returns his gaze to Caduceus. “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

* * *

**Now…**

Caleb’s arms still throb with phantom pain. He looks down at them, expecting to see new scars, but there’s only the old ones; his very visible constant reminder. He traces his fingers over the scars, his stomach twisting into knots. He looks away, covering them with his coat sleeves.

He’d come to in a small room that smelled like antiseptic, sick, and the underlying scent of death. In the bed next to his a man moaned in pain but continued to sleep, unaware of the events that transpired mere blocks from this very building.

A physician had come into the room, surprised yet pleased to see Caleb awake so soon, and began checking his vitals. She mentioned how a cleric had been by to heal him, and at first he thought they might have been Jester or Caduceus, but she’d said a name he didn’t recognize and his hopes had fallen.

He asked about his friends, but the physician didn’t know where they were. She promised to check for him if he’d been willing to wait. He agreed, having no other choice, and once she deemed him well enough she moved onto the other patient in the room.

Caleb had turned, putting his back to the two, and stared out the window. He could still see the smoke lingering in the air; another reminder. He thought seeing the place that started his misery literally go up in flames would make him feel better but he’d been wrong. It only made him feel worse. All those innocent people they couldn’t save. It hadn’t been the students’ fault that some of the professors weren’t to be trusted. Caleb hoped, if his friends were lucky enough to survive the fire, that they managed to get most of the people out. At least the ones who deserved it.

He’d been too out of it to be of much help.

He remembered the cell. It hadn’t been large, probably half the size of his hospital room. They’d locked him away when they realized he had no intention of joining them. He could have handled the cell. He’d been locked in one before, but they hadn’t left him alone. Trent had Eodwulf and Astrid experiment on him. He said it was another learning experience for them, but Caleb knew the truth. It’d been his way to keep them in line; a reminder of what could happen to them if they tried to help Caleb.

It hadn’t been needed. He knew he wasn’t going to get through to either Eodwulf or Astrid the moment he saw them. Trent’s influence was too strong. They were not the kids he knew anymore.

When his friends had found him, he remembered he’d been bleeding. Heavily. Astrid had stabbed him. Or maybe it had been Eodwulf. It could have been both of them. Even his keen memory had limitations. Laying in a pool of his own blood, mostly unconscious, happened to be one of them.

Nott had been there, kneeling next to him, and someone else but the memory floats in and out of focus. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to remember the details, but everything is a blur of colors and sounds until he saved Fjord with a firewall.

He remembers that vividly.

The physician had returned when he’d been about to doze off, accompanied by two guards. She had looked harried, claiming her patient hadn’t been ready to leave yet, but the guards insisted. They’d escorted Caleb out of the hospital, ignoring the physician’s protests, and he’d been brought to the stockade.

They’d left him in a room and he has been there ever since.

He wishes he had Frumpkin. He did; for a while. He used his cat to sneak around the academy, searching for a key or maybe some spell components. Any aid to make it easier for his friends to find him. He still feels the pain in his chest from when the dagger pierced Frumpkin’s side. He’s not gone forever, he’ll get him back if he gets out of this, but he’d been inside his cat’s head when he died. It’s not something he’s experienced often, but it hurts to be violently hurtled back into his body.

The door opens. A portly guard walks into the room, muttering under his breath too quietly for Caleb to hear. He shuts the door, taking a seat across from him, and lets out a frustrated breath.

“Here’s hoping you are more cooperative than your friends,” he says testily, shuffling in his seat.

“M-my friends? Who? Are they alright?”

“Blue girl; fuzzy guy,” the guard grumbles, glaring at the table. “They’ve been talking in circles for hours. I hope Jonah is having better luck with the half-orc.”

“What? What about N-Nott and Beauregard? Or Yasha? Are they here as well?” Caleb feels faint. This is the most he’s heard about his friends since he woke up. He curls his hands into fists to keep them from shaking; he needs to know that the others are alive. He can’t lose anyone else today.

The guard sighs, rubbing his forehead. “The big one, whatever her name is, attacked a couple of our guards. She claims she’d been protecting you, but they didn’t see anyone else in the vicinity. They’re not dead, and we’re waiting until she calms down to question her, but for right now she’s in a cell. As for the other two we haven’t found them yet.”

Numbly, Caleb nods. “Thank you.”

The guard’s expression softens when he sees the look on Caleb’s face and he says, “But we’re still searching the rubble. The blue girl drew us a sketch of the two, along with everyone else in your party. If they turn up we’ll let you know.”

Caleb presses his palms into his eyes, rubbing until he sees stars. He takes a few controlled breaths before lowering his hands. He blinks a few times, trying to clear his vision, and when the guard comes back into focus he looks worried.

“You okay, buddy?” he asks halfway out of his seat.

“Ja, ja I am. I am fine,” Caleb lies, fixing a pale smile onto his face. “I am willing to cooperate as best as I can, but my memory of the night is spotty.”

“Whatever you can tell us will be helpful.” The guard sits back down, running a hand through his hair. “Everyone is on edge. That school looms over us all, nobody knows what they actually do inside, and then bam it’s on fire. If you ask me, good riddance, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

Caleb furrows his brow. “You did not like the academy?”

The guard shrugs. “It gave off bad vibes. I don’t have anything against mages, some have helped us out quite a lot, but that place. The students never looked quite right, you know? Some were downright scary. Then this war happened and they cleared out the school. Sent the younger students home; shipped the older ones and the professors on the front lines. They were the first to respond, almost as if they were expecting this war to happen.” The guard shakes his head. “So, no, I didn’t like the academy.”

“There were no students inside that building?” Caleb asks feeling faint again.

“Not that I know of. We haven’t found many bodies in the wreckage. A couple fit the descriptions of some of the teachers, and one is of a woman none of us recognize, but that’s the extent of what we’ve found so far.”

The guard keeps talking, but Caleb tunes him out, staring blankly at the table. A woman they didn’t recognize? They’d been told their identities would be erased when Trent began grooming them to become assassins. There’s a chance Astrid is dead. He feels hollow. He’d been in and out of consciousness the last time he’d seen her, but he recalls Nott firing a crossbow bolt at her; possibly several. She might have missed. Maybe she didn’t.

What of Eodwulf? Is he also dead? The guard never mentioned his body. He could very well be alive. Caleb remembers him telling Astrid to go, get out before the building came down, but she’d stayed. She stayed to fight… somebody. Gods, he wishes he could remember. Why can’t he remember?

“Are you sure you’re okay?” the guard asks watching Caleb warily. “You spaced out there for a moment.”

“I think I am going to be sick,” he lies, clutching his stomach.

“Shit. Let me. Let me go get you something.” The guard jumps up, rushing out of the room, and Caleb waits until his footsteps have disappeared before he pulls his wire from his pocket.

He hesitates. Who should he message? He should really check in with Fjord, but Nott and Beau are still missing. He doesn’t know how long he has, and he needs to act quickly. Fjord can wait; he tries Nott.

“Nott, are you there? It’s me. Please respond to this message.”

There’s a long pause, and Caleb feels his insides freeze. She can’t be dead. She cannot be dead. He refuses to believe she’s dead.

“ _Caleb_?” He covers his mouth to keep from crying out, his eyes burning with relieved tears. _“Caleb? Are you okay? Is everyone else okay? Beau and I are hiding out. Guards are everywhere. Did you start that fire?”_

“I am okay,” he lies. He’s been doing that a lot tonight. “As far as I know everyone else is okay. We’re all being held in the stockade. I do not think I started the fire, but I am not sure.”

There’s another pause and then Nott says, “ _Do you want us to try and break you out?”_

“Nein, not yet. Let me. Let me talk with Fjord and the others, see what they think we should do. Yasha has been locked inside a cell. She attacked two guards. I think something was done to her, she claimed she was protecting me. An illusion perhaps.”

“ _We can ask if you’d like.”_

“What do you mean?”

“ _We have Eodwulf.”_

“What?” Caleb wants to inquire more, but the door opens and the guard walks in carrying a piss pot. He hurriedly shoves his wire back into his pocket, accepting the pot the guard hands him, and pretends to gag into it.

He puts on a show for a few more seconds before pushing the pot away. He murmurs a thank you, wiping his sweaty brow. It has nothing to do with playing sick. Beau and Nott have Eodwulf. They are in danger. Especially if he gets loose. He has to get out of here.

“Could I trouble you for some water?” he asks the guard, pretending to gag a bit more.

“Uh, sure. Yeah.” The guard nods, hurrying back out of the room, and Caleb pulls his wire out again.

“Fjord,” he whispers, pressing the wire to his lips. “I know you can’t respond, but when you get a moment I really need your help.”

* * *

**THEN**

Caleb lets Fjord go the moment he casts Thunderstep. The shock wave sends him to the ground, a spike of pain erupting up his side. His ears are ringing, his vision swimming in and out of focus, and he’s too disoriented to react when he feels hands grab him and haul him to his feet.

Sound returns just in time for him to hear Eodwulf say, “It appears as though your friend has abandoned you.”

“Eodwulf, get him moving. Guards are coming to investigate the noise.” Astrid pops into focus, a cut across her cheek trickling blood down her face. She meets Caleb’s gaze briefly and for just a second she’s _his_ Astrid again, but in a flash he doesn’t recognize her anymore. She’ll never be _his_ Astrid. That girl died the moment she executed her first victim.

Eodwulf hauls Caleb up, throwing him over his shoulder, and hurries down an alleyway. There’s a flash of green, followed by shrieks of pain, and Astrid come running around the corner after them. She places a hand on Eodwulf’s shoulder, closing her eyes for a second, and they all promptly disappear.

They get a few blocks away before the invisibility begins to wear off. Eodwulf puts Caleb down, keeping one beefy hand wrapped around his arm, and looks around for any guards. He turns back to the others when he’s satisfied, snorting when he sees the frown on Astrid’s face.

“If you’re hellbent on going after the half-orc, by all means.” He gestures back towards where they came from. “Bren and I can meet you at the rendezvous point.”

Astrid scowls. “I’m not going after the beast.” She crosses her arms, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “This feels like a set up.”

“Does it?” Eodwulf looks over at Caleb, cocking his head to the side. “Is it, Bren? A set up? Did you and your new friends set this up?”

“They. They do not know I am here,” Caleb responds faintly, willing himself to stop shaking. His heart pounds against his chest. Despite his attempts to convince Leylas to bring the fight to those who deserved it, now that he’s actually facing his past he’s regretting ever saying anything.

“I believe him.” Eodwulf turns his attention to Astrid. “Do you?”

With a frustrated huff, she turns and begins walking, not sparing either one a second glance. “Let’s get out of here. The locals are starting to give me hives.”

Eodwulf watches her retreating form for a moment before settling his gaze on Caleb again. He grins when he sees the outraged look on his face. “At least pretend to remember you were worse than both of us once.”

“I’m in no position to judge anyone on their heritage,” Caleb mutters bitterly. He squandered that right the moment he murdered his parents. If he’s being honest, that’s the only good thing to come out of that situation. He’d been reminded that his parents had been decent people who raised an open minded boy. Trent nearly destroyed all of that for his own personal gains.

Eodwulf’s grin morphs into a perplexed look. “You’ve certainly changed.”

“You certainly haven’t,” Caleb retorts before he could stop himself.

“You’d be surprised. Can you walk?” When Caleb nods, Eodwulf pushes him forward. He trips over his feet, catching himself on a wall, and he hears a quiet chuckle. “Watch your step there, Bren.”

They catch up with Astrid quickly. She doesn’t say anything else, but she does slow her pace enough so they’re all walking together. It almost feels like they’re kids again. Almost. The distrust pouring off all three is a dead giveaway that none of them are those kids anymore. Things will never be the same.

Caleb spots Trent before he sees them and an icy chill slithers down his back. He shrinks away, backing into Eodwulf, and a hard nudge is the only thing that keeps him moving. Since the night he’d murdered his parents, Caleb has seen Trent once before but that had been through Frumpkin’s eyes. Seeing him this close, remembering how cruel he’d been, he wants nothing more than to run away.

He’s not aware he’s actually started to turn away until Eodwulf grabs his arms and holds him in place. He leans down, his breath hot against Caleb’s ear when he whispers, “He’s waited a long time to see you, Bren. Must you prolong this reunion?”

Caleb hunches into himself, hugging his torso, and slowly walks forward. He wishes Beauregard were here right now. He could really use her strength.

Trent narrows his eyes when he sees Caleb. He looks him over and his lips curl in disgust. He steps forward, fixing the collar on Caleb’s coat, and then backhands him across the face. It stings, and Caleb can feel blood trickling down his chin, but it could have been worse. Trent has become weak with age.

“I thought I recognized you in Zadash,” Trent comments casually, wiping his hand on a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. “But I wasn’t certain. You’ve done an excellent job trying to hide, Bren. If it wasn’t for that amulet, I would have never been able to keep tabs on you.

“You have Eodwulf to thank for that. A way to hide from those who seek to find you, but not from me.” Trent reaches up, patting Eodwulf on the cheek. “Clever, clever boy.” He pulls away, his eyes zeroing in on Caleb’s neck. “I see you’ve lost yours. Pity.”

“He probably gave it to the half-orc,” Astrid mutters from behind Trent. When he turns to her she quickly explains, “He’d been with the beast when we found him. I saw he put something in his hand. Possibly a way to track him.”

Trent sighs softly, shaking his head. He returns his attention to Caleb. “Bren, you continue to disappoint me.” He catches Eodwulf’s eye and nods. Hands grab the sides of Caleb’s head, gripping it tightly, and a surge of magic jolts through him. His eyes suddenly become too heavy, his weight sagging into Eodwulf, and the last thing he sees is Trent’s cruel smile before he sinks into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

**NOW**

Fjord manages to keep a straight face when Caleb’s voice drifts into his ear. He’s relieved to hear from him, but he doesn’t like how frantic he sounds. He listens to his message, furrowing his brow, and nods. He looks over at the guard sitting across from him, an irritated look on the man’s face.

“So, we’re sticking with the Alfield kidnapping story?” the guard asks with a frustrated sigh.

“It’s the truth,” Fjord grumbles crossing his arms. “Take it or leave it.”

“Fucking…” the guard stands up, grumbling under his breath, and storms out of the room. Fjord waits until he’s gone before looking down at his hand. He knows it won’t do any good, but he attempts to summon his falchion anyway. Nothing.

“C’mon,” he mutters trying again. Still nothing. “C’mon you sumbitch. You want me to free you; you gotta work with me. Come on!” His head gives a nasty throb and he closes his eyes, breathing through the pain. “I ain’t got time for your fucking hissy fit.”

 _“Punish,_ ” a voice whispers in the back of his mind, the pain getting worse.

Fjord grunts, holding his head in his hands. He grips his hair, his breath quickening, and he rides out the nausea that accompanies the headache. A moment passes, followed by another, and finally he is able to lift his head. The pain has become a dull ache again.

“Alright,” he whispers to the room. “Alright, I’ll. I’ll release you. Just please, let me do this first. After this I’ll, I’ll find a way to release you.” The voice doesn’t respond, but the ache ebbs away slowly.

The moment it dissipates, Fjord tries to summon the falchion again. Relief floods him when the sword appears in his hand, sending a cascade of water across the table. He stands up, heading towards the door. He listens for a moment, making sure nobody is approaching the room, and grips the sword in both hands, casting Misty Step. He startles Caleb when he appears next to him, putting a finger to his lips.

He almost hugs him. He’d thought for the longest time they were going to lose him; had actually thought he had died when they found him bleeding on the floor. He still looks tired, or even more tired than Caleb usually looks, and his clothes are still red with dried blood, but he’s alive. That’s what matters right now.

“What’s the plan,” Fjord whispers crouching down next to Caleb.

“I, uh, I haven’t thought that far ahead.” He anxiously looks towards the door. “I also don’t know when that guard is going to come back.”

“Alright.” Fjord picks at one of his tusks for a moment, looking around the room. It’s a lot like the one he’d been in and wouldn’t do them much good. “We gotta figure out how to get the others out, but I know Jester doesn’t have the energy to do any useful spells. And even if she did that doesn’t help Yasha.”

“We might have to come back for them,” Caleb says softly, but his expression tells Fjord he doesn’t like that option. Neither does Fjord if he’s being honest.

The door begins to open and Fjord crams himself under the table, leaning against Caleb’s legs. He watches as a guard walks in, stopping next to the table. He places something on the surface and Caleb murmurs a quiet, “Thank you.”

“Are you alright now?” the guard asks, almost sounding concerned.

“I just. I need another minute please.”

The guard sighs but walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. The moment he’s gone, Fjord crawls out from under the table. He sits back on his heels, looking up at Caleb, and waits for him to give him something to do; anything. He’s getting itchy and there’s only so much stopping him from grabbing Caleb and casting Thunderstep.

This time he’ll make sure Caleb comes with him; even if he has to use everything he has to return to this very room. He's not leaving him behind again.

“Alright. Let me. Let me send a message to Jester. Let her know that the moment she can, meet us outside of town. We’ll…” Caleb trails off, running a hand across his mouth. “What about Yasha?”

“Right. Yasha.” They had to get her out somehow. Caduceus could probably convince a guard to let him and Jester go, but Yasha is going to be the problem. She attacked two guards. They aren’t going to just let her go.

Unless...

“You got one of those charm spells like Jester has? Maybe you can convince that guard to leave us the keys. We can find where they’re keeping Yasha, give her the key, have her meet us when she’s able to get free.”

“Or…” Caleb pulls his wire out, speaking softly into it. “Jester, the moment you hear a loud knock you and Caduceus get out as quickly and quietly as you can. Meet us outside of town when you do.” He waits a beat before nodding and putting the wire away.

He stands, struggling to shove the table against the door. Fjord gets the idea, getting to his feet, and between the two they are able to block anyone from coming into the room. He rolls his shoulders, offering Caleb his hand, and asks, “Where to?”

“Just outside. I have to find where they’re keeping Yasha.”

Fjord nods, grabbing Caleb’s hand, and summons the falchion again. He stabs it into the floor, letting loose a loud crack, and the two vanish. They reappear on the other side of the stockade, watching as three guards hurry inside to investigate the thunderous boom.

“Yasha,” Fjord calls softly, walking around the building. “Yasha, you there?” Caleb trails behind him, keeping an eye out for any guards.

It takes a few minutes of searching, but they finally come across the cell where Yasha is being held. She moves towards the barred window when she realizes who they are, smiling in relief when she sees Caleb.

“I thought you were dead,” she says and he tries to return the smile.

“That was not me.”

Yasha’s expression darkens. “I am getting tired of being charmed.”

Caleb nods in understanding, crouching down so he’s level with her. “We’re going to get you out, but I need you to stand back.”

She takes a few steps back, watching him curiously as he wraps his hands around the bars. He mutters something under his breath, wincing slightly when a loud knock cracks in the air, but the bars come free. He pulls them away, stepping back so Fjord can give Yasha a hand up, and she just manages to pull herself from the window when two guards come bursting into her cell.

“Let’s go,” Fjord says and the three rush towards a nearby alleyway.

They all meet up outside of town. Fjord raises his eyebrows at the sight of Jester dragging Yasha's sword behind her; she smiles, shrugging.

"I saw it by the door. Thought I would grab it." She hands the sword to Yasha. "You're going to need it."

"Thank you, Jester," Yasha responds, taking it carefully from her hand.

The moment Jester sees Caleb she runs at him and throws her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. She then backs up and swats his chest with the back of her hand.

“Beau told me to do that if I saw you,” she says and hugs him again.

His neck and ears turn about as red as his hair and he stiffly hugs her back. When she releases him he gets hugged by Caduceus. It's just as awkward as Fjord thought it would be; Caduceus practically swaddling Caleb. His face turns an ever brighter red.

Once their reunion is over, Caleb fills them in on what Nott told him, their faces darkening when they hear Eodwulf survived.

“He’s the only one,” Yasha says softly, reaching up to grip the hilt of her sword.

“Yasha carved through Trent,” Jester exclaims excitedly, her eyes widening when she realized how she broke the news. “I’m sorry, Caleb.”

Caleb mulls over the information for a moment before pushing is aside for now. “What of Astrid?”

Fjord and Caduceus share a look when Caleb isn’t paying attention. Fjord had vowed to put his falchion through Ikithon’s throat, but he ended up killing Astrid instead. He didn’t think he’d do it after Caduceus drained most of her life with some creepy ass spell, but he can’t change what happened. Somewhere near the academy there is a nice patch of flowers growing. The guards probably won’t find her body.

“She won’t be a problem anymore,” Fjord finally says and Caleb stiffens for a moment before his shoulders sag. He hangs his head, nodding slowly.

He looks up a moment later, wiping his eyes, and says, “Let’s go find Nott and Beauregard.” He starts walking away, already pulling his wire out of his pocket, and the rest follow suit.

“Mister Fjord.” Caduceus grabs his arm, holding him back from the others. “We should tell him.”

“Not yet,” Fjord murmurs, watching Caleb’s retreating form. “Let him process her death before we go and tell him how it happened. Okay?”

Caduceus looks conflicted, but he eventually nods.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

* * *

**THEN**

It takes three days before they catch a break. Three days of messages going unanswered. Three days of watching Caleb trying to navigate through a haze of whatever they’re giving him to keep him in line. The only bright side is he hasn’t allowed Trent to manipulate him into returning to his side. He has fought every step of the way. Fjord is proud of him, and he can see the pride in the others’ eyes, too. Caleb is trying; that’s more than enough.

Fjord is at his wits end, and he can tell Beau isn’t doing any better. They haven’t seen Nott sober since the day Caleb had been taken. Yeza follows her around the house trying to give her coffee, but she refuses to drink any of it. They’re lucky they left Luc with Yussah; he didn’t need to see his mother like this.

It’s Caduceus who actually gets the location to where Caleb is being kept. He’d been studying Caleb’s amulet when he spotted a symbol, small and easy to miss, etched into the stone. When he showed Fjord, he tried to place it but he couldn’t, but Beau recognized it the moment she saw it.

“That’s Cerberus Assembly bullshit,” she says pointing at the symbol. “I’d recognize that shit anywhere.”

“Jester!” Fjord calls and she comes running down the stairs. She skids to a halt in the war room, holding her sketchbook to her chest, and looks around frantically.

“Is it Caleb? Did he die?” She looks like she’s about to cry, and that’s the last thing Fjord wants to see, so he quickly reassures her.

“As far as we know he’s still okay, but we need you to send Yussah a message. Try and convince him to come here again. I doubt The Bright Queen would allow us to use her teleportation circle to send us to Rexxentrum.”

“We’re going to Rexxentrum? Why are we going to Rexxentrum?” Jester looks at everyone; confused.

“That’s where Caleb is,” Beau replies already reaching for her staff. She looks determined enough to try and learn teleportation herself to get them to Caleb faster.

“Why is Caleb in Rexxentrum,” Nott demands stumbling into the room. She doesn’t have her flask for a change. Fjord spots Yeza standing in the doorway, sliding it into the pocket of his pants. He doesn’t know if he managed to steal it from her or convinced her to give it up willingly, but Fjord nods in his direction. He nods back and disappears back into the kitchen, passing Yasha on her way into the room.

“We don’t know," Beau starts, "but we’re headed there as soon as…”

Someone knocks on the door and they all freeze. Jester creeps up to Fjord’s side, pressing against his arm, and whispers, “Should we answer it?”

“I don’t…”

There’s another knock and they hear Essek call through the door. “I can hear you from out here. I know you’re home.”

Fjord nods towards the door and Caduceus hurries to answer it, the others trailing behind him in a loose group. His wind chimes jingle when he opens the door, a pleasant sound in an otherwise unpleasant situation, and Essek walks into the house with a curious look on his face.

“Having a party, I see.” He takes in their expressions and the smirk falls off his face. “Or not.” He counts heads, frowning when he realizes one’s missing. “I see you’ve lost a member.”

“He’s not dead,” Nott snaps and Fjord reaches out, stopping her from hurrying across the room to attack Essek.

“I never said he was,” Essek responds watching Nott warily. He reluctantly looks away from her, letting his gaze settle on Fjord. “How can I help?”

“You wanna help us?” Fjord shares a look with Beau who narrows her eyes before shrugging.

“Couldn’t hurt,” she says, but she still gives Essek a few dubious looks. “Yussah might not leave his tower again. We’re lucky he even brought us here the first time.”

“That’s true.” Fjord looks back at Essek, crossing his arms. “Why d’ya wanna help us all of a sudden?”

“You provided a service to our people by returning the beacon. We have an investment in your merry band of-” he trails off, letting his gaze flicker between them all before settling on Fjord again, “-adventurers. If one of you is missing we’d like very much to get him back. Especially Mister Widogast. Since he is the one who initially gave us the beacon.”

“That’s not all, is it?” Caduceus moves to stand next to Fjord, watching Essek with a calculating look. “Why are you so interested in Caleb?”

Essek gives Caduceus an unimpressed look, shaking his head. “Please don’t try to analyze me, Mister Clay. I’m not in the mood. If you must know, I’ve invested time into Mister Widogast. He is the first human I’ve willingly taught Dunamancy to and I’m rather intrigued as to what he’ll do with more powerful spells.

“Besides, every time he’s around…” Essek trails off, sighing in frustration. “You’re hard to keep tabs on with him in the area. I want to know why.”

“I fucking knew it,” Beau says pointing a finger at Essek. “See this dick has been spying on us since we got here. That’s probably why you even agreed to teach Caleb in the first place.”

“I have hidden nothing from you. Do you honestly think we wouldn’t want to keep tabs on you? We’ve had enough Empire spies to last us a lifetime. We didn’t need anymore.” Essek uncrosses his arms, turning to leave. “Use my help if you must, but my time is limited and I don’t have all day.”

“I thought time was your specialty?”

Essek looks over his shoulder at Beau, giving her an amused look, and says, “My specialty can also be wasted.”

“Wait.” Fjord steps forward, putting one placating hand up. “Listen, unless you know how the to teleport you’re not gonna be much use to us.”

“As a matter of fact. I do.” Essek looks intrigued when he turns back to them, tilting his head to the side. “Now, where do you all need me to take you?”

They all share a look before Fjord says, “Rexxentrum.”

Essek is taken aback by the response, but he recovers quickly, crossing his arms again. “Interesting. And what exactly has your friend done to land himself in the capital of The Empire?”

“Would you believe it if we told you it was a school reunion?” Beau asks and Essek gives her a tolerant smile. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

He crosses the room, taking a seat on their makeshift coffee table, and opens his arms wide. “I’m all ears. Enlighten me with a story.”

It takes the combined effort of everyone in the party, and they keep out huge chunks of details that Caleb wouldn’t want anyone outside of them knowing, but Essek manages to get the meat and potatoes of their situation.

There’s a long pause, much like Yussah’s the day Caleb had been taken, and Fjord can feel Beau and Nott shifting impatiently, but finally Essek nods and says, “I’ll help you get there, but that’s all I can do. If I’m caught in The Empire…”

“It’s. It’s more than enough,” Fjord says quickly, feeling relieved. He’d been doing the math in his head for travel time while they explained things to Essek and there is no way they'd leave Caleb with Trent and his disciples for almost a month. “Really it is.”

“Alright.” Essek stands, gesturing around the room. “Please tell me you have a teleportation circle?”

“We do.”

“Then lead the way.”

* * *

**NOW**

“Just let me punch him,” Beau says watching Eodwulf struggle with his binds. “Just one time.”

“Alright,” Nott responds, sitting on the edge of a table, glaring daggers at Eodwulf. Her crossbow sits next to her hand, loaded and ready to fire if he made any sudden movements, and she has a clarity in her eyes she hasn’t had since Caleb had been taken. She’s willing to kill this man in a heartbeat, and Beau wouldn’t stop her.

Beau crosses the room, punching Eodwulf across the face. She punches him twice more for good measure, making the last one a stunning blow, and watches as he curls in on himself, grunting against his gag.

“That’s for Caleb,” she says crouching down next to his head. She grabs a chunk of his hair, pulling his head up, and whispers, “The moment we don’t need you anymore I’m going to let my friend unload every bolt she has into you.” She gives him a fake, cheery smile. “Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

Eodwulf snorts, but otherwise he can't respond. Beau lets him go, his head thunking against the floor. She stands, returning to Nott’s side. She leans against the table, crossing her arms, and glares at Eodwulf.

“Why are we keeping him alive again?” she asks sparing a single glance at Nott before returning her gaze to Eodwulf.

“I want to make sure nobody else is going to come after my family,” Nott replies narrowing her eyes at their captive. “Not Astrid. Not Trent Ikithon. Not the Cerberus Assembly or the Clovis Concord or whoever the fuck else they’re connected to. I want them all to leave my boys alone. And I need to know if they have any of them on their radar.” She points one, gnarled finger at Eodwulf. “And he’s the one who will tell us.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Your fists? They make people tell the truth, right?”

Beau holds up her hands, curling them into fists. She grins. “Fuck yeah.”

“Then he’ll talk,” Nott says staring intently at Eodwulf. “He’ll fucking talk.”

“Even if I have to beat it out of him.”

“Exactly.”

A heavy silence settles over the room. They watch as Eodwulf shakes off the stunning strike, his eyes narrowing at Beau in a death glare. Nott picks up her crossbow and shoots him in the shoulder. He hisses, reeling back, and she shakes her head, gesturing at him with her weapon.

“Behave or the next one goes through your eye,” she snaps, reloading her crossbow. He sneers at her, and she snarls back. It’s a battle of wills, and Nott isn’t going to be the one to back down first. Beau silently cheers her on; seriously fuck this guy.

A frantic knocking comes from the door and Nott gaze darts towards it. She nods towards it, and Beau pushes away from the table, heading towards the door. She takes a peek out of the small window, just to see who decided to pay them a little visit, and opens the door.

Caleb enters the room first, followed by Fjord and Caduceus. Jester and Yasha trail behind them.

Yasha shuts the door behind her and the shack suddenly feels very claustrophobic.

Nott’s gaze travels over everyone, checking them for serious injuries. When she’s satisfied that nobody is going to suddenly pass out, she finally lets her eyes settle on Caleb. They share a long look, neither one moving towards the other, but finally Nott jumps off the table and rushes towards him. He falls to his knees, allowing her to hug him, and wraps his arms around her. She pulls him tightly to her, burying her face in his shoulder.

Fjord sidles over to Eodwulf, pointing his falchion at him when he starts to move, and says, “Don’t try anything funny or I’ll put this through your eye.”

Beau can’t help snorting softly. Nott and Fjord are more similar than they like to admit; it’s almost funny.

When Nott eventually releases Caleb, she plants a big kiss on his forehead and says, “You try anything like that again and I’ll never speak to you again.” She kisses his forehead once more. “I mean it. You scared the shit out of me. Out of all of us. I thought you were dead. There was so much blood.” She moves his coat aside, looking at the crimson staining his clothes. “So much.” She pulls him into one more hug before releasing him and turning to look down at Eodwulf.

“Did you do this?” she demands, gesturing at Caleb’s bloody clothes.

Something flashes in Eodwulf eyes and he shrugs.

“Beau. Punch him.”

“Okay.” Beau moves forward, ready to unload into him, but freezes when her gaze catches Eodwulf’s. She hears a voice whisper in the back of her head, telling her to let him go; he’s not the enemy. _They are._

 _They are_. She looks back at her friends, waiting for her to do something, and suddenly they’re not her friends. How could these people be her friends? They’ve put this poor man through hell; especially the goblin. She had to let him go and kill the goblin.

She pulls two throwing knives out of her boot. She drops the first one, kicking it towards him, and throws the second one directly at Nott.

Nott moves out of the way, giving Beau an outraged look, and exclaims, “What the fuck?”

“Thank you,” Eodwulf says, pushing himself to his feet. He rubs his raw wrists, his blue eyes studying each member of The Mighty Nein before settling on Beau. “I was beginning to feel unwanted. Now, be a dear and… take care of them.”

Beau lashes out at Fjord first, the closest to her, planting a punch right to his solar plexus. He goes down, stunned, and she moves onto the next target. She throws two more knives at Jester and Caduceus, but she only manages to hit Caduceus in the shoulder. Yasha grabs Jester and pulls her out of the way.

Nott races towards her crossbow, but Beau catches her by the hair. She swings her around, hitting her twice in the face. One of her fangs comes loose in Beau’s knuckle, but she doesn't care, sending Nott to the floor with a roundhouse kick to the side of her head.

She turns to Caleb, who is already waving his hands to cast counterspell, but with a snap of Eodwulf’s fingers Caleb’s eyes roll back into his head and he crumples to the floor. She turns back to her new friend, nodding in thanks, and returns to the fight.

She jumps back when Yasha comes at her, hopping up onto the table. She grabs the rafters above, swinging forward, and kicks Yasha in the chest, knocking her into the back wall. She loses her grip on her sword as it flies out of her hand, skidding across the room and out of her reach. Satisfied, Beau throws two more knives in Caduceus and Jester’s directions, but she misses when Yasha sprints across the room and tackles her off the table.

They land on the floor hard, and Beau tastes blood when she bites her tongue. She lashes out, swinging wildly, and two hits connect with Yasha. She barely feels the blows, her eyes blazing in anger, and she shakes Beau.

“He’s charming you,” Yasha snarls.

“I’m sure he is,” she snaps back, bringing her knees up. She plants her feet into Yasha’s middle and kicks her off, flipping back onto her feet. She feels someone try to grab her from behind, but she grabs them by the arm, using their momentum to flip them over her shoulder. Fjord’s body kicks up dust when he lands on the floor, the breath knocked from his lungs.

“Beau stop!” Jester screams but Beau ignores her, bringing her fist down to pop Fjord in the face. She feels his nose break on impact, and she punches him again. She punches him one last time for good measure, feeling him go limp beneath her, and turns her attention back to Yasha.

She runs at the bigger woman, jumping up and wrapping her legs around her neck. She twists around so she’s sitting on her shoulders, pressing her fingers into the correct pressure points. She feels Yasha hit her a couple times, but each blow becomes weaker and weaker until she collapses next to Caleb.

Beau stands up, turning her attention to Jester and Caduceus, only to gasp when Jester shoves Yasha’s sword into her stomach. There are tears running down her cheeks and her whole body is shaking, but she pushes just a bit more and Beau feels the charm shatter.

“I am so sorry,” Jester sobs, yanking the sword free. She drops it, catching Beau as she starts to fall, and lowers them both to the floor. She pulls Beau into her lap, cradling her body to her chest. She strokes her hair, sobbing into her shoulder.

“Ow,” Beau groans, looking down at the wound. It’s bleeding freely, and will most likely continue to do so until she can be healed or bandaged, but Jester hadn’t gone deep enough to kill her. She hopes. “Shit.”

She struggles to sit up, clutching her wound. She looks around the room, her head falling onto Jester’s shoulder, and she groans again. The place is a mess. Fjord has managed to pull himself back to consciousness, groggily mopping up his bloody face. Yasha and Caleb lay unconscious on the floor while Caduceus checks on them, one bloody hand pressed into his wounded shoulder. And Nott...

Nott is…

Wait.

Where’s Nott?

“Jes,” Beau says faintly, pushing herself up. “Jes, where’s Nott?”

“What?” Jester frantically looks around, clutching tightly to Beau’s hand. “Nott!” She calls, pulling both herself and Beau to their feet. She leaves Beau leaning against a table, rushing towards the door, calling Nott’s name.

It’s then that Beau realizes Nott isn’t the only one missing.

Eodwulf is gone, too.

_Fuck._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story seems to be snowballing into something bigger and bigger the more I write. So, yeah, there's going to be another chapter. Yay! Hopefully chapter 4 is the last one, but seeing how this story has been going I guess we'll see.
> 
> Thank you to those who left kudos and comments last chapter. I hope you folks enjoy this one and leave me a comment if you've liked what you've read so far. I adore hearing for you :)
> 
> Bye!!!
> 
> One more thing, since none of us know what The Soltryce Academy looks like I took liberties with its appearance. I know it's not going to look like this in canon, but whatever.

**Then**

The contents in the vile are green. It’s something Eodwulf and Astrid have been working on; a way to keep their victims aware but unable to move. They haven’t been able to test it properly on anyone, the war requiring quiet and fast kills as opposed to actual torture, but Trent suggests they use Caleb as a guinea pig.

“He’s proven he doesn’t care what happens to him,” he says with a sneer, looking down at Caleb through the bars of his cell. “He’s a perfect test subject.

The first time they inject it into his veins, it feels like ice traveling through his body. His vision grays around the edges, his rapidly beating heart begins to slow, and he loses the ability to speak. He’s tied to the exact table Trent used to use for his experiments, but he loses the ability to care.

“Can you hear me, Bren?” Eodwulf asks, leaning into his line of sight. He thinks he nods, but his head isn’t cooperating. Eodwulf looks over at Astrid, shrugging. “Strange side effects.” He snaps his fingers, two clicks in Caleb’s left ear, and shrugs again. “Perhaps you should try casting a spell on him; see what happens.”

Astrid steps forward, pushing past Eodwulf, and rests her hands on Caleb’s cheeks. Her dark gaze meets his and she smirks. “Remember the wildflowers, Bren? That field you took me to on our first date?”

He lets out a shaky breath, attempting to nod again.

“I turned that field to ashes,” she whispers in his ear and sends a shockwave through his head.

Pain erupts down his arms and Caleb’s entire body stiffens up. He tries to cry out, but the scream catches in his throat. It literally feels like every one of his scars have split open, and he wonders, had he were able to check, would he be covered in blood.

Astrid releases him and the pain abruptly stops. He chokes on a sob, trying to curl in on himself, but he still can’t move. His vision wavers before snapping into focus, and Astrid stands above him with malice in her eyes. He silently curses Trent for doing this to her; he destroyed an ambitious girl. Turned her into a monster.

A few stray tears trail down Caleb’s forehead and into his hair. Eodwulf appears in his line of sight, wiping them away with his thumb, and says, “It’s okay to cry, Bren. It’s just us.”

The words hit Caleb like a ton of bricks, and his breath hitches in his throat. He’d told Eodwulf the same thing when Trent had started experimenting on them. He’d found him curled under his bed, trying to stop crying. Caleb had joined him, curling up next to him, and gently wiped away the tears.

_“It’s okay to cry, Wulfie. It’s just us.”_

But there’d been a hug that followed. Caleb isn’t expecting a hug this time, and he’s not surprised when Astrid steps forward and grabs his head again, sending another shockwave through his body.

This time a scream manages to tear free from his throat, echoing off the stone walls. His arms are on fire, and he fights to pick his head up; to see what she’s doing to him, but he’s still being affected by the drug. He can do nothing more than lay there and endure another of her spells. A fourth follows, but when Astrid starts to cast a fifth, Eodwulf grabs her hand and pulls her away.

“Pace yourself, Astrid. You’re going to kill him.”

She sneers at him, pulling her hand from his grasp, but takes a step back. She crosses her arms, glaring at Caleb, breathing heavily.

Eodwulf ignores her, leaning over Caleb with a cheery smile, and says, “A little overzealous, our Astrid. Remember the first time she stabbed a man? All that blood? And what did you do?” He waits expectantly, playfully slapping his forehead when he doesn’t receive an answer. “Silly me, I forgot, cat’s got your tongue at the moment.” He looks over his shoulder at Astrid. “Maybe you can answer my question, As. What’d he do?”

She chews on her tongue for a moment before grumbling, “He burned away the evidence.”

“Exactly. He burned away the evidence; including the whole house. All to keep you safe. Took the punishment, too. We weren’t supposed to kill that one. Questioning only, you idiots. That’s what Trent told us. Then he dragged Bren away. Oh how Astrid cried that night. Poor, Bren. Poor, foolish, lovesick Bren.” Eodwulf pats Caleb’s cheek, leaning down until their lips are brushing. His hot breath smells bitter and Caleb tries to move away. Eodwulf gets impossibly closer and whispers, “She’s always loved you best, but would that have changed if she knew about the night in that corridor? I remember that night very vividly.”

Caleb does, too. It’d been the night of _the kiss_. The one they promised to never tell Astrid about; swearing each other to secrecy like it was some sort of blood oath.

It’d been a clumsy kiss, their teeth knocking together, their noses brushing awkwardly as they tried to tilt their heads to make it work. He remembers tasting blood, someone’s tooth hitting somebody’s lip, but he also remembers he had that same feeling he always got in his stomach whenever he kissed Astrid. It’d certainly given him something to think about afterward.

They could have all been something; him, Astrid, and Eodwulf. They were already inseparable before Trent handpicked them for his experiments, it wasn’t at all impossible for them to explore something more, but they never had the chance. They’d been sent home the next night, and Caleb’s life had fallen apart a week later.

“Get away from him,” Astrid snaps, yanking Eodwulf away. He smirks but goes willingly, maintaining eye contact with Caleb.

A voice suddenly tries to needle it’s way into Caleb’s head, but he shakes it off. Fury flashes in Eodwulf’s eyes and he looks away. A dull ache starts above his left eye and Caleb tastes blood in the back of his throat. When he sniffs, he tastes more blood.

“What did you do to him?” Astrid demands, turning to look at Eodwulf.

He wipes his nose, smearing blood across his hand, and smirks. “A spell I’ve been working on. It’s something I’ve seen Trent do, but I modified it a little bit. He-” Eodwulf nods at Caleb. “-has a stronger will than we gave him credit for; you might not get your boy toy back, Astrid.”

She gives him a disgusted look, shaking her head. “Jealousy is an ugly color on you, Wulfie.”

“Yet you wear it so proudly.” Eodwulf grins when Astrid glares at him. She turns back to Caleb, touching his forehead, and sleep takes him before he can hear her response.

He wakes up in his cell. His head is killing him and he can still taste blood, but he’s able to move. He groans, sitting up, and snaps his fingers. Frumpkin appears next to him, unimpressed as usual by their surroundings, but he crawls into Caleb’s lap when he calls for him, brushing his head against his chin.

“Hallo,” he says weakly, pulling the cat to his chest. He looks down at his arms, pushing one of his sleeves up, but he only sees scars. Inflict Wounds then. Psychic pain is better than actual cuts, Caleb figures.

It still doesn’t make him feel any better.

* * *

They appear in a heap outside of town. Fjord takes a knee to the chest, an elbow to the eye, and he narrowly misses a foot to his balls. It takes a second for him to reorient himself and another to get untangled from the mess of limbs, but he eventually stands up.

Essek is already standing, frowning at the town he can barely see through the trees. Fjord offers Jester a hand, pulling her up, and does the same for Nott and Caduceus. Yasha picks herself up, dragging Beau with her, and steadies her when she starts to wobble. Together, they look to Essek for answers, and he shrugs.

“The only logical explanation must be the school,” Essek says gesturing to the only building they can clearly see; its three towers barely clearing the tree line. “Too much magic surrounds the town to be able to directly teleport into it.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Fjord grumbles brushing dirt off his armor.

“That or they know we’re here,” Essek adds and Fjord feels Jester grab his arm. “But I’ll dismiss that theory since we’re not currently being surrounded by crown’s guards.” He looks a little nervous as he checks the trees for any signs of an ambush, his shoulders relaxing just a bit when he doesn’t see anyone.

He turns to the Mighty Nein, giving them each a studious look, and says, “Have Miss Lavorre send me a message if you don’t find him and I’ll come back for you.”

“Will do,” Fjord responds and holds his hand out. Essek looks down at it for a few seconds before reaching out and clasping it. He lets go a moment later and disappears in a flash; the others covering their eyes to keep from being blinded.

The moment he's gone, Fjord starts walking towards the city, the others following behind him at a brisk pace. “Alright. Knowing teleportation almost fucked us, I doubt that a couple of us can just dimension door in and let the others in through the front. So we might have to ask around. We’re gonna have to make it quick though because we don’t know what they're doing to Caleb in that school. Might be better off splitting up or…” he trails off when they come to the gate.

Two burly, human guards step forward. One has his hand hovering near his sword, the other has his up, halting their progress. They eye their group suspiciously, their gazes lingering on Fjord, Jester, and Caduceus. Nott shrinks back, hiding behind Caduceus’ leg, and Fjord sees her form shift into Veth.

The man with his hand raised narrows his eyes. “What business do you have in Rexxentrum?”

“Uh…” Fjord steps forward, plastering a charming smile on his face. “We’re travelers up from Alfield. We’re in need of some supplies before making our way home. Got a little lost. We weren’t expecting to run into the capital.”

“You shouldn’t be travelling without a guide,” the guard says, exchanging a look with his friend. “There’s a war going on; we can’t afford to let just anyone into Rexxentrum.”

“I understand that, sir, and we’ll be out of your hair as soon as we have some supplies.” Fjord feels his smile slip a little when he sees them share another dubious look, and he fights the urge to summon his sword and demand they let them in. A nasty throb pounds against his head, but he ignores it. “Please.”

The guard with the sword rolls his eyes, but nods. He friend nods back, moving towards the gates and gestures up to the man manning the lever. He calls back, pulling it, and the gates slowly begin to open.

The moment they’re inside, Fjord notices several people looking over at them. One woman, mid-forties, auburn hair, gathers her children closer to her, giving their group wary looks and a wide berth. Another man, smelling of alcohol and weaving past them, spits at Caduceus’ feet.

Fjord is used to feeling unwelcome in most places, especially in the empire, but he doesn’t remember anyone ever being this hostile towards them. The war is bringing out the worst in people. He never thought he’d admit this, but he misses Xhorhas.

“Let’s just stick together,” he suggests and the rest nod in agreement.

The locals range from wary to aggressive. Twice Yasha has had to step in front of Fjord, an intimidating presence causing an aggressive bigot to back down. He swears he saw a flash of her wings the second time, but she hadn’t unleashed them fully. She’s mentioned before they frighten anyone near her, and she’d hate for her friends to take the brunt of their power.

When Beau suggests she and Yasha do the talking, Fjord willingly hands over the reigns. He lingers near the back with Caduceus, fighting the ever present headache that has been plaguing him all day. He's more than willing to let someone else play leader today.

Beau gets too caught up in the questioning, scaring away the few people willing to talk, and Yasha can be just plain scary. It’s a losing battle with these people and Fjord is about ready to call it a day.

Right now they’re sitting on the steps of a tavern. Jester leans against Beau, whispering to her god, asking him for any help. Nott paces back and forth, glaring at anyone who walks by them, while Yasha leans against the wall watching her; ready to grab her should she try anything reckless. Caduceus meditates next to Fjord, communing with his own goddess. Occasionally his shoulder will brush against Fjord’s, but he’s been mostly still for the past ten minutes.

Fjord hopes the Wild Mother or the Traveler can give them something useful. He’d try asking his own god, but Uk’otoa would most likely suggest they let Caleb die so they can focus on unleashing him, and frankly that’s not an option. As for Yasha’s god. Fjord doesn’t know much about The Stormlord, and he has a feeling Yasha knows even less. It’s best if they keep his involvement to a minimum for now.

Fjord rubs his forehead. He looks up at the academy, looming over the entire city. It’s a stone manor, three stories high, with three towers in the front. There is a huge glass window in the shape of the Cerberus Assembly’s symbol smack dab in the middle of the largest tower. Fjord kind of wants to throw a rock through the glass.

His vision wobbles, blurring the building, and he stands up. He startles the others, knocking Caduceus out of his meditative state, and they all look over at him worriedly.

“I apologize,” he says softly, offering them a pale smile. “Can y’all excuse me? I need to take a walk.”

“I’ll come with,” Beau offers but Fjord shakes his head.

“Nah. Stay here. Keep them safe.” He gestures to Jester, Nott, and Caduceus.

Suspicious, she asks, “You sure?”

“I’m literally going over there. I will be right back.” Fjord hurries away, ducking into a nearby alleyway. His head gives another nasty throb and he has to catch himself on a dirty, brick wall when his legs turn to jelly.

“Not now,” he hisses, resting his forehead against the wall.

“ _Punish_ ,” a voice whispers in his ear.

Pain erupts in his chest, knocking the air from his lungs. Fjord’s knees buckle and he sinks to the ground, bracing himself with his hands. He hears a clatter next to him, and when he looks over he sees the falchion laying at his side.

“No,” he hisses, dropping the accent. “No, please no. Not now. Please.” Another painful jab stabs into Fjord’s forehead. “Please,” he whispers, bowing his head.

“ _Punish_ ,” the voice repeats and goes silent.

Fjord doesn’t know how long he kneels in the alleyway, but when he hears footsteps approaching he hurriedly gathers his sword and shoves it into his bag of holding. He scrambles to his feet, dusting dirt and grime off his knees, and hurries out of the alleyway, nearly running into Jester.

“Are you okay?” she asks worriedly.

“Right as rain,” he responds with what he hopes is a cheeky grin. “Just needed to walk off this nervous energy. Feel like Caleb might be in even more danger than we realized if we can’t even get into the damn school.”

“Yeah.” Jester watches him warily. Fjord wonders if she can tell he’s lying; probably. She knows him better than anyone in the Mighty Nein. If she does, she doesn’t call him out on it. Instead, she nods towards their group. “Beau suggested we go inside the tavern. She thinks the local drunks will be easier to talk to, and Nott agrees.”

“Okay. Let’s follow their lead.”

“Okay.” Jester gives him one more worried look before turning and heading back towards the tavern. Fjord swears he hears the falchion rattling around in his bag as he follows her; he ignores it.

* * *

**NOW…**

The moment Caleb wakes up he knows something is wrong. Jester lingers over him, one hand gently gripping his shoulder, worry shining brightly in her eyes. She helps Caleb sit up, keeping a steady hand on his arm. Around him, Caleb sees the aftermath of the fight, and he immediately seeks out the culprit.

Beau is leaning against the rickety table, one arm wrapped around her bound abdomen, the white bandages already stained with blood. She is pale and obviously in pain, but she also looks like she’s ready to go at a moment’s notice. Caleb doesn’t know how they managed to break her free from Eodwulf’s spell, but she’s not punching them anymore so it’s safe to assume she’s herself again.

Fjord has blood all over the front of his armor and even more smeared across what little of his face Caleb can see. The rest is covered by an old cloak he presses against his nose. He winces whenever he squeezes too hard. Caleb has seen Beau’s fists kill enemies stronger than Fjord; he’s lucky he got away with just a broken nose.

Yasha is visibly irritated as she ties one of Beau’s hand wraps around Caduceus’ shoulder, but she’s surprisingly gentle; ensuring she doesn’t cause him any additional pain. Her left eye is swollen shut and her lip is still bleeding, but she doesn’t pay her injuries any mind; she’s more focused on helping Caduceus.

He winces a bit when Yasha tests the bindings on the makeshift bandage, but he otherwise doesn’t make a noise. His eyes catch Caleb’s and he gives him a sad smile. Taken aback, Caleb looks away.

He recalls Beau throwing a knife at Nott, but he doesn’t remember if it actually hit her. He looks around to check on her, needing to make sure she’s okay, but she isn’t in the room. His heart starts pounding in his chest.

“Where is Nott?” he asks looking to each of his friends. He hopes she’s just gone outside to keep an eye out for anyone, but he answers his own question when he notices Eodwulf is also gone. “No.”

“Caleb…” Jester reaches out to him, but he brushes her comfort away. He stumbles to his feet, heading towards the door, but Yasha moves faster, catching him around the middle and holding him in place.

He struggles, needing to get outside and look for Nott, but she holds him steady. He starts yelling in Zemnian, knowing they have no idea what he’s saying, but he doesn’t care. He has to get to Nott before Eodwulf kills her. He won’t hesitate. Nott means nothing to him; she’s a goblin. He’s killed more powerful people for less. What is a goblin to a mad wizard?

“Caleb, calm down.” Fjord appears in Caleb’s line of sight, voice muffled behind his cloak. “We’re going after Nott, don’t worry. We just need a goddamn minute.”

“He. He could kill her.” He goes limp in Yasha’s grasp, curling into himself. “We can’t let her die,” he says in a small voice.

“We’re not. I promise, but you need to calm down.”

“Here, Mister Caleb, let’s sit you down.” Caduceus appears next to Fjord, gently taking him from Yasha, and guides him over to the corner of the room, He helps Caleb sit, crouching down next to him, and squeezes the back of his neck. “Take a few deep breaths, okay. Everything will be fine.”

Caleb leans forward, bracing his elbows on his legs, and buries his face in his hands. He tries taking Caduceus’ advice, but he gives up after his third failed attempt. He won’t be able to breath easy until they get Nott back.

“Where would he go? Because I’d like to put my fists through his face.” Beau cracks her knuckles for good measure.

“Yeah, calm down killer. You’re gonna sit your happy ass right there and avoid bleeding out,” Fjord responds, taking a step back when she glares at him. He looks over at Caleb. “Do you know where he’d go?”

Caleb shrugs, staring blankly at the floor.

“No. Hey. Don’t do that.” Fjord crosses the room, crouching down in front of Caleb. “Freaking out isn’t going to get Nott back. Where would he go?” He reaches out with his free hand, shaking his shoulder. “Come on, head in the game.”

“That isn’t helping, Mister Fjord,” Caduceus argues, pushing his hand away.

“He’s the only one who knows that fucker. I need him here and not wherever he goes when he does _this_.”

“Yelling at him isn’t helping.” There’s something strange in Caduceus’ tone. It almost sounds like a warning.

Fjord stands up, raising his free hand. “Alright, fine. Whatever.” He takes a step back, moving across the room to stand next to Beau.

“Mister Caleb,” Caduceus says softly, his fingers brushing the hairs on the base of Caleb’s skull. “Do you know where Eodwulf would take Nott?”

Caleb shakes his head. “I-I barely know him now. It’s been nearly. Nearly twenty years. He could be anywhere by-”

“ _Caleb_ ,” the whisper startles him and he stiffens. “ _That’s your name now, isn’t it? Caleb? Tell your monk friend thank you for the information. It’ll make getting acquainted with the goblin a lot more fun.”_ A deep, humorless chuckle sends a shiver down Caleb’s spine. _“I’m not far. I left a present on that knife your friend gave me. She gave me so many gifts tonight; it almost feels like my birthday.”_ There’s a pause. _“Come find me. The goblin and I are waiting.”_

Caleb tries to respond, but the words get caught in his throat. He lets out a shaky breath, pointing one trembling finger at the knife Eodwulf left behind, and whispers, “He. He left some blood.”

“What?” Fjord follows Caleb’s finger, moving across the room to pick up Beau’s throwing knife by the hilt. Gingerly, he carries it to the table, laying it on the surface. He looks over at Caduceus and asks, “You think you can get us to this fucker?”

“I am willing to try,” he says reaching for the Wild Mother’s symbol around his neck.

“Okay. Then let’s go get Nott.”

* * *

**THEN**

They all had their uses for Trent.

Caleb had charm. He’d been good at talking his way out of a situation when he needed to, and even better at making people feel sorry for him with a sheepish smile and those puppy eyes that Astrid claimed she loved so much. Eodwulf always said he had that “boy next door” look about him that people ate up. Their victims were always quick to trust him, some even inviting him into their homes. _“It doesn’t hurt that you have cheekbones like a god,”_  Eodwulf told Caleb once, tipsy on wine that they stole from one of the general stores in Rexxentrum.

Astrid had ambitious that bordered on recklessness. She’d been the first one to kill someone, grabbing the knife out of Caleb’s hand and thrusting it into a man’s gut. He remembers quite vividly the look in her eyes afterward; she had enjoyed it. “ _Her poor impulses are going to get us killed one day_ ,” Eodwulf had said while Caleb cleaned up another one of Astrid’s messes. He never regretted it as a kid; he loved her too much to see her get into trouble.

Eodwulf had patience. Out of the three of them, he has always been the most analytical. He’s like a cat in the sense that he enjoys playing with his food before ultimately killing it. He’s always had a brilliant mind, something Caleb really admired about him, and he’d been the one to convince them to accept Trent’s invitation. _“A chance to learn from someone of his stature. Why would we say no?_ ”

They really should have said no.

Trent is in the room today. He’s leaning against the wall, observing his prized pupils. There’s something dark lingering in his eyes, but Caleb is too out of it to figure it out. His chest still hurts from earlier; Frumpkin taking a dagger to the side while wandering the corridors. He doesn’t know who threw the knife, but he hates them with a fiery passion.

They’ve stopped tying him down; their concoction keeps him from going too far. Today it’s more of a yellowish green and it smells awful. That same icy feeling washes over him, but this time he feels a little nauseous. He breathes through it, knowing it won’t do him any good to choke on his own vomit, and readies himself for whatever Eodwulf and Astrid have planned today.

“Show me what you’ve been up to,” Trent says gesturing to Caleb.

Astrid steps forward, resting her hands on either side of Caleb’s head, and that familiar shockwave pulses through him as his arms start to burn. He’s so used to the pain he doesn’t react how she wants and she sends another shockwave through him out of frustration.

Trent gives her an unimpressed look, directing his attention to Eodwulf. Caleb sees Astrid sneer before she steps away from him, moving to stand on the opposite side of the wall from Trent. Her pride is wounded; Caleb is a little terrified of what she’s willing to do to get back onto Trent’s good side.

Eodwulf moves forward, looking directly at Caleb, and that familiar voice tries to slither its way into his head again. It has become almost like a game for Eodwulf, trying to get into Caleb’s mind, and he’s pushed him out every single time. It’s steadily becoming harder, but he manages it again today.

In a fit of anger, Eodwulf slams his fists into the table right near Caleb’s head, leaving his ears ringing. He glares down at him before his gaze darts to Trent. At the equally unimpressed look he receives, Eodwulf hurries to stand next to Astrid.

“I’ve taught you more than this,” Trent says, annoyed. “Are you holding back because he’s an old friend?”

“No sir,” they say together.

“Because you are more than welcome to join him if that is the case,” he snarls, his hands balled into fists. One of his biggest flaws has always been his temper. He’s become a master of hiding it from those who matter; they’ve never fit into that category.

Eodwulf and Astrid recoil at the suggestion.

Trent’s smile is cruel when he says, “That’s what I thought. Now…” he steps away from the wall, gesturing to Caleb again. “Show me what you can do.”

Eodwulf walks up to Caleb. He grabs him by the head, picking it up so he’s facing the back wall, and he whispers, “We have your little friend.”

At first, Caleb resists the spell, but then he blinks and he feels his whole world shift. Suddenly she’s right there; Nott. Her face is bloody and bruised, her arms bound on either side of her by chains. He doesn’t know how they managed to catch her; perhaps his friends are somewhere in the city. Maybe they’re here, too.

He shakes his head, trying to break free from Eodwulf’s hold, but he tightens his grip.

“We’re trying to debate whether we should torture her and make you watch. OR get into that pretty little head of yours and convince you to do it for us.” He leans over until their heads are touching and asks, “What do you think, Bren? What should we do?” He chuckles softly. "She's just a goblin, after all, and what is a goblin to a mad wizard?"

“Bren, please,” Nott pleads and Caleb feels the illusion shatter around him. Anger pulses through him, temporarily flushing out whatever it is they gave him, and he holds onto it.

“She,” he starts, adding a quiver to his voice, “she has nothing to do with this.” As he speaks, he bends his hand so his fingers can grasp Eodwulf’s arm. “Please. Please let her go. Harm me instead.”

“Oh we intend to, but not yet. For now we’re going to have a little fun with-” Eodwulf trails off into a pained hiss, reeling back from Caleb, holding his burnt wrist. With a cry of anger, he rushes forward, wrapping his hands around Caleb’s throat.

Caleb tries to pry at his fingers away, hoping to loosen them from his neck, but two days of no food on top of whatever they gave him makes it difficult. Just as he’s about to pass out, he hears a shout and Eodwulf flies off of him, slamming into the back wall.

“I trained you better than that,” Trent exclaims, lowering his hand. “I will not tolerate barbaric behavior from you!” He steps forward, pointing at Eodwulf, and says, “If you do it again you will join him! Now get up!”

Eodwulf stands up, fixing his coat. He murmurs something about needing air and walks towards the door. As he passes Caleb, he gives him the same perplexed look he always gave a problem he intended to solve. He screwed up something; he’d wait until Trent is away to investigate further.

He slams the door in frustration.

A tense silence settles over the room. Trent turns his gaze onto Caleb, narrowing his eyes, and slowly moves towards him; fixing his robe sleeves.

“You’ve always been a complication, Bren,” he says softly, leaning over Caleb. “And I don’t like complications. A part of me had hoped you would have died in that asylum. One less complication on my part. But here you are, still alive. Pity.” He looks over at Astrid. “Take him back to his cell.”

She nods, moving forward, but stops when Trent raises his hand. He grabs Caleb under the chin, forcibly turning his head to the side so they're eye to eye. “You’re wasting your talents with those cretins you call friends, but you’ve always been a waste.” He releases Caleb, backing away from the table, and Astrid continues forward.

It’s not a long walk back to the cell, but Astrid isn’t very big and Caleb can barely walk straight. As his anger dwindles the weakness from the drugs and lack of food catches up to him, and he has to trail his hand across the wall to keep himself upright.

“How did you know?” Astrid asks suddenly, keeping her eyes forward. “About Wulfie’s illusion?”

Caleb lies, “I just know him.”

“You don’t know him. You don’t know either one of us. And we don’t know you. It’s been 17 years, Bren.” She finally looks over at him, but her face is hard to read. “Do you even go by Bren anymore? Wulfie and I have had several identities. What about you?”

“I’ve had my fair share,” Caleb replies shrugging. “I had to keep hidden from…”

“From us.” It’s not a question. “Were we really that bad?”

“You poisoned your family,” Caleb says bitterly. “We don’t know what Eodwulf did to his parents.”

“And you set your parents on fire,” Astrid comments casually. “None of us are innocent, Bren.”

“Yet I am trying to do something about it. I spent nearly six years thinking I was trash, and maybe that’s still true, but at least I am trying.”

Astrid leans away from him, watching Caleb warily. “Eodwulf is right. You have changed.”

Caleb chooses not to respond and they fall silent.

The academy hasn’t changed much since Caleb has last been here. It’s the same labyrinth of cold, dark corridors that he would purposely get lost in; the same thrum of magic in the air. In his time here, he became well acquainted with the walk to the dungeons. What better place for the Cerberus Assembly to hide one than in The Soltryce Academy? The locals were too afraid to ask questions, and the Assembly had enough guards in their pockets to avoid a thorough investigation.

It didn’t hurt that the whole city had a magical barrier around it for “protection.” A “gift” of sorts from the Assembly. Caleb knows the real purpose for the barriers. The Assembly has a long history of mages trying to shut them down; self-preservation at it’s finest.

Astrid shoves him into the cell, shutting and locking the door. She curls her hands around the bars, resting her forehead against them. She closes her eyes, breathing slowly for a moment, before lifting her head.

“You said you feel nothing when you look at me,” she starts softly, her eyes meeting Caleb’s. She doesn’t wait for him to answer, her tone raising a bit when she continues, “That first year, after Trent had you committed, I dreamt of your return every night. You would be you again and everything would be normal. You, me, and Wulfie would be a family. But when it became apparent that you were never going to get better, the dreams stopped.

“Then Trent told us you woke up, and at first I thought finally my Bren is returning to me. But then he told us how you killed two guards and fled. I wanted to go after you, but he and Eodwulf told me no.

“They said they had a way to track you, an amulet that Wulfie made. They’ve always known your vague location, could have sent anyone to get you at any time, and I so desperately wanted to bring you back, but they told me never to engage. That Bren would return to us when he was good and ready. And I trusted them because I always thought of course Bren would return to me. He always comes back to me.

“But the years went on and you continued to run. You squandered your talents, hiding among filth. Eventually Trent gave up on tracking you; you were no threat to us why should he care what you did. And honestly, by that point, I no longer wanted to find you. You were no longer _my_ Bren. You were essentially a stranger in beggar’s clothes.

She draws a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She releases the bars, taking a step back, and says, “So you say that you feel nothing when you look at me. Well fear not, Bren, because I feel even less for you.”

She turns to leave, but stops, slowly turning back to face him with a grim smile. “Make no mistake, Bren. I plan to track down those friends of yours and eliminate every last one of them. While you were pretending to be a beggar you were out of our hair; barely a blip on our radar. But with them. With them you have the ability to become the threat Trent always knew we’d have to face. They’ve changed you too much, and I for one feel sorry for you.”

Her confession hurts a little, but Caleb chooses not to respond to it. Instead, he drags himself to his feet, straightening himself up as best as he can, and says, “Perhaps they have changed me, but at least I have enough humanity left inside of me to be able to change.”

She scoffs, shaking her head, and walks away. The moment her footsteps fade, Caleb lets out a shaky breath and sinks back to the floor. He buries his face in his hands, wishing he had Frumpkin.

“Hallo, Bren,” Eodwulf’s soft voice says from the corner and Caleb’s head snaps up, his eyes darting around the room, but he doesn’t see anyone.

“Where? Where are you?” he calls, pulling himself to his feet.

Eodwulf appears behind him, chuckling softly. Caleb whirls around just as he’s shoved against the bars, the metal digging into his back. Eodwulf pins him there and whispers, “I thought we could have a bit of a chat.”

* * *

The dwarf had been drunk when they found him, sitting alone in the back corner of the tavern. His unfocused eyes watched them warily approach, but he warmed up quickly when Fjord offered to buy him a drink.

That’d been five drinks ago, and he hasn’t shut up about the academy. He mentioned a rumor that the building is enchanted and those spells spilled out onto the city. He said his friend Grit heard that they did experiments on the students. He said the true power of the building comes from that ugly ass window. He said the towers move at night; swears up and down he saw one move, but then he admitted he had been high at the time.

It’s mostly bullshit, and Fjord can tell everyone is getting impatient with the man. He almost suggests they move on until the guy mentions a way inside the building. Interest peaked, Fjord orders him another drink.

He puts it in front of the dwarf and says, “How can we get inside?”

“There’s a passageway those mages use to stock the academy. Starts in the cemetery, takes them directly under the city and into the cellar of that freaky school. My friend Grit took his girlfriend down there for their first date.”

“He sounds like quite the romantic,” Fjord mutters sarcastically, but the dwarf doesn’t pick up on it. “Do you know where the cemetery is?”

“Outside of town. Near the temple of the Raven Queen.” The dwarf rolls his eyes. “Everyone knows that, man. Can I get another drink?”

“Maybe sleep off what you’ve already had,” Caduceus suggests and the dwarf waves his concerns off. He stands, taking his mostly empty tankard with him, and stumbles towards the bar.

Fjord waits until the dwarf is out of earshot before addressing his friends. “It’s worth a shot, right?”

“Yeah, crawling around a cemetery on the word of a drunk guy. Sure.” Beau leans back into her seat, grabbing her mug.

“You got any better ideas?” Fjord asks curiously.

Beau shakes her head, taking a drink. “Nope. Just saying.”

“I’d hate to suggest this,” Caduceus begins, a solemn look on his face. “Mister Caleb doesn’t deserve to stay with these people any longer than necessary, but we might have to wait until morning.”

“We’re not waiting,” Nott says sharply. “They could be killing him right now.” She jumps onto the table, knocking over Yasha’s tankard, and grabs the sides of Caduceus’ face. “You scryed on him last, right? He was alive at the time, right?”

“Nott!” Fjord grabs her around the middle and pulling her back. “Attacking Duceus isn’t going to help anything.”

She kicks the table struggling to get free, snarling and drawing the attention of the tavern’s patrons.

“You are causing a scene,” Fjord scolds preparing to carry her outside until she chilled out. He’s halfway out of his seat when she calms for a moment, and he thinks she’s going to see reason until she sinks her teeth into his hand. He cries out, dropping her, and she scurries back to her side of the table.

“He’s in there because of me,” Nott snaps, her eyes shining with tears. She gestures behind her in the vague direction of the academy. “I talked Jester into writing that stupid fucking letter! I convinced her to use her last name! What the hell was I thinking? Why would I even suggest that? So he could have friends? He has friends! You are his friends!

“The idea of him being back at that school, knowing that they’re hurting him; it’s not fair to him! And if we rescue him and he never wants to speak to me again I won’t blame him! So, I am sorry I attacked you Mister Clay, but I need to know that he’s okay! And he won’t be fully okay until we get him away from those people!”

She sits down, crossing her arms, and glares at the table. A few tears trail down her face, dripping onto her cloak, but she doesn’t reach up to brush them away. “We can’t wait,” she says softly, sniffing. “We can’t.”

“I understand that,” Fjord starts after a brief pause. “I do. We all care about Caleb and want nothing more than to see him safe, but we need our spells. Jester and Caduceus have been using theirs all day. If something should happen to him, or any of us, we need that revivify spell. Do you understand why I agree with Caduceus about waiting until morning?”

Nott refuses to look at Fjord, but reluctantly she nods. When her gaze finally meets his she whispers, “Fine, but if he dies let that be on your conscience.” She steals Beau’s mug, ignoring her protests, and drains the remaining dregs. She then stands up, fixing her mask and cloak, and walks towards the bar to order another drink.

Fjord watches her go, pushing aside the gnawing guilt he already feels, and says, “I’ll see if they have any rooms available. We’ll turn in early, head off to the cemetery at first light.”

“Fjord, she didn’t mean it,” Jester says, reaching for his hand.

“She did,” he replies, gently tugging it away. “I know she did.”

He hates that he lied to Nott, but he needs his magic if they’re going to rescue Caleb. He can’t do anything with just a sword, and he refuses to be useless. Uk’otoa isn’t the most reasonable god, but how does he expect Fjord to free him without his magic?

A sharp jab hammers behind his eye. A reminder that Uk’otoa has all the power right now. He’ll get his magic back when Uk’otoa thinks he deserves it back; this is his punishment.

Anxiety bubbles up in his gut, and Fjord brushes that aside for now.

* * *

“The goblin doesn’t call you Bren, does she?” Eodwulf whispers, his nose pressed against Caleb’s cheek. “That’s how you knew. The one flaw those fucking amulets have is we can’t hear you. I’ve been working on a way to fix that, but my attempts have been for nothing.

“So,” he shoves Caleb against the bars, stars bursting across his vision when his head cracks against the metal. “What exactly does she call you?”

Caleb doesn’t respond.

Eodwulf pulls back, forcing a kind smile on his face. “Bren, don’t you remember when we used to tell each other everything? Just answer my question.”

Caleb feels that same voice trying to weave its way into his head, but he shakes it off. Eodwulf let out a frustrated breath, slamming Caleb against the bars again. He releases him, pacing across the floor.

“Why must you ruin everything?” he demands, flexing his fingers. “We all knew what we were getting into when were handpicked by Trent…”

“He manipulated us,” Caleb says softly, shrinking back when Eodwulf takes a few steps towards him.

“He made us stronger!”

“But he didn’t. We could have been stronger without him.”

“Shut up!” Eodwulf grabs Caleb’s lapel and slams him into the bars again. “Just shut your mouth!” He shoves him a second time, hard enough to leave his ears ringing. “Just shut up,” he murmurs, shoving Caleb a third time. He then releases him, letting him slump to the floor.

“Eodwulf…”

Eodwulf holds up his hand, shoving Caleb to the side with one of his spells, and walks towards the cell door. He reaches into his pocket, pulling a key free, and unlocks the door. He steps out into the hall, closing the door behind him, and as he locks it he says, “You are not as smart as you think you are, Bren. Remember that.”

He storms away.

Caleb reaches up to check his head, but other than a knot there isn’t any blood. He leans back against the stone wall, closing his eyes. He never thought he’d admit this, but he misses the Xhorhaus. That’s where his family is; that where he should be right now. If there’s one thing Eodwulf and Astrid have gotten right it’s that he’s not Bren anymore. He hasn’t been for a very long time.

The cell creaks open and Caleb sits up, furrowing his brow. He expects Astrid or maybe Eodwulf, but neither one come into the room. He scrambles to his feet, pushing himself against the wall, his breath catching in his throat…

He hears a soft voice say, “Perhaps I should teach you a lesson.”

Everything goes white.

* * *

**NOW**

The floor smells like piss. That’s the first thing Nott registers. The second is she’s tied to a pole, wrists bound tightly behind her back, bony shoulders aching. The last is her head hurts and she’s pretty sure one of her fangs is missing.

She opens her eyes, blinking a few times to clear her vision. She struggles to sit up, grunting when the movement pulls on her shoulders, but she manages in the end. She looks around the room, somehow even smaller than the shack she and Beau had holed up in, only to let out a frustrated sigh when she sees Eodwulf watching her from the doorway.

“You’re still alive?” she asks with an annoyed huff. “Where’s my crossbow so I can put that bolt through your eye.”

“For a goblin, you lack respect,” Eodwulf comments wiping something off his hands. He’s trying to hide how fucked he is, but Nott can still see the crazed look in his eyes. He’s so far down the rabbit hole he practically has one foot inside one of the nine hells.

“I only have respect for those who deserve it, and you, you demented fuck, do not,” Nott retorts, ducking out of the way when Eodwulf throws a firebolt at her head. It cracks against the pole, leaving behind a scorch mark, and he curses under his breath.

Nott gives an experimental tug on her binds, but she knows she’s not going anywhere. She watches Eodwulf, his shoulders tense as he paces across the small space. Everything is going to hell for him today, and Nott could almost feel sorry for him if he didn’t put her family in danger.

“Everyone is gone,” he mutters under his breath, resting his hands on his head. “Trent is gone. Astrid…” he trails off, bowing his head. “The academy. Who knows who else was in that school. Everything we’ve worked for…” he continues talking to himself, switching over to furious Zemnian. From her time with Caleb, Nott is able to pick up a word or two, but she still has a hard time following along.

He stops pacing, returning to the door. He crouches down next to a symbol she missed earlier, taking a piece of chalk from his pocket. He rubs his bleeding nose with his other hand, his fingers trembling, and starts to draw.

“What is that?” Nott demands.

“Shut up,” Edowulf snaps not looking up from his symbols.

“What’s it do?”

“I said shut up.” He snaps his fingers and Nott can no longer speak.

She wordlessly yells at Eodwulf, knowing it’s not doing her any good but doing it anyway. When she runs out of insults, she tries tugging on her binds again. Still too tight. She soundlessly huffs, letting her head thud against the wooden pole.

When Eodwulf finishes his ritual, the symbols glow for a second before disappearing into the floor. Trap set, he carefully steps away from it and moves towards Nott. He crouches down next to her and says, “You stole Bren from us. Or Caleb. Or whoever the fuck he is now. He was mine and Astrid’s first and you took him. Made him into something he’s not. He’s not the same and he’ll never be again.

“It’s a shame, really. He’d been destined for greatness; we all were destined for greatness. Astrid and I could have achieved it given time, but here we are; she’s dead and I am desperate. I hate being desperate.

“They’re going to kill me. One way or another I am going to die tonight, but I’m not afraid to take as many of them with me as I possibly can. And you’re going to watch. I may even remove that charm just as it’s happening just so I can hear you scream.”

Nott glares at Eodwulf.

He pats her head, turning to watch the door, and whispers, “Any minute now. Let’s count the seconds shall we. Thirty… twenty-nine… twenty-eight…” he whispers each second, right in Nott’s ear, staring gleefully at the door.

“Ten… nine… eight… seven… six…” the door opens, a flash lights up the room, and Nott begins to scream.

* * *

**THEN…**

Nott’s eyes snap open just as the sun is starting to creep over the horizon. Her head aches from last night, and possibly the three nights prior, but she’s feeling more sober than she has been in a week. She regrets giving Yeza her infinite flask, but she has the back up that she’d been filling steadily all night last night. She’ll be fine.

She rolls off the bed she’d been sharing with Jester, shaking her awake. She doesn’t take the time to check if she’s up, moving on to Beau who’d taken the floor. She nudges her shoulder with her foot, jumping back when Beau bolts up, and says, “Get up!”

“The fuck,” Beau grumbles, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Get up,” Nott repeats and hurries out of the room, calling over her shoulder, “One of you get Yasha up!”

She heads to the room next to their's, pounding on Fjord and Caduceus’ door. Nott hears some shuffling followed by the creak of the floorboards as somebody walks towards the door. It flies open and a groggy Fjord looks down at Nott. Before she can tell him to get moving he shuts the door in her face.

“Rude fucker,” Nott mutters and walks back to her room.

They all meet downstairs ten minutes later. Nott almost kicks Caduceus when he suggests they get some breakfast, but Yasha’s hand on her shoulder stops her from actually doing it. They end up getting something for the road, whatever the barkeeper had at the ready, and head out just as the shops are beginning to open.

They split up when they get to the cemetery, looking around for the secret tunnel. A priestess from the temple pokes her head out to see what they’re doing, but she doesn’t approach them. Instead she watches them for a long minute before throwing out a handful of birdseed and heading back inside.

A couple ravens fly down to peck at the seeds. One lands by Nott’s feet, looking up at her with eyes far too intelligent to be a normal raven, and tilts its head towards the back of the cemetery. She squints her eyes at it, wondering if maybe this might be Frumpkin, but before she can ask it cackles at her and takes flight, landing on a statue near the temple.

Shaking her head, Nott follows the raven’s direction, and sure enough after some searching she finds the stairs to the secret tunnel inside an unused mausoleum. She calls for the others, waits impatiently for them to gather around, and then says, “Let’s go.”

She expects Fjord to stop her; he’d been pretty vocal about stopping her yesterday, but he’s being awfully quiet today. He’s standing in the back, his eyes darting around looking for nosy guards. For some strange reason the hilt of his sword is sticking out of the sheath on his back. He hasn’t used that sheath since Alfield.

Nott shakes her head. She’ll have time to ask questions later. They need to get to Caleb now.

She heads inside.

* * *

The stairs lead them into a cold, stone tunnel. The mausoleum door closes the moment they're all inside and several candles, running the length of the tunnel’s walls, come to life and dimly light the way. They all share a wary look before continuing down the passageway.

Fjord trails behind the others, periodically attempting to conjure eldritch energy in his hands when he thinks no one is looking, but he’s still magic less. He’s starting to panic, but he pushes it away. Now is definitely not the time.

He’d tried communicating with Uk’otoa last night after Caduceus went to bed. He first attempted to draw pictures like Jester. He felt like a dumbass doodling stick figures on a piece of scrap paper, but if it worked for Jester it might work for him.

It didn’t.

Out of curiosity, he tried the meditating thing Caduceus does, but he didn’t have the patience to sit still long enough to feel anything (not that he expected Uk’otoa to answer him even if he did). After his second failed attempt, he’d been desperate enough to try and talk to a glass of water like Yasha sometimes did to the sky but that didn’t work either.

The only thing he accomplished was a sleepless night.

He’s waiting for someone to ask about his sword. They must have noticed by now. He’s hoping the inevitable conversation happens later rather than sooner; he still hasn’t come up with a convincing lie.

He feels useless.

Nott navigates the tunnels like a mad woman, ignoring any and all traps that may or may not be waiting for them. Beau trails behind her, thankfully keeping a better eye out. Somebody has to make sure they stay alive to rescue Caleb.

Halfway down the tunnel, Beau holds up her hand, stopping their progress. Yasha, who’d been trailing her the whole time, reaches out to stop Nott, ignoring her grumbled protests. Beau gestures with her hand to a barely visible symbol etched into the stone above them.

“Trap,” she whispers, taking a step back.

“I could cast dispel magic,” Jester suggests quietly and the others nod.

She steps forward, clutching her holy symbol. She closes her eyes, murmuring under breath. They watch in awe as she raises a glowing hand; a bright, green that lights up the dim tunnel. There’s a soft whoosh and with a flash the spell shatters.

She looks up at the ceiling. “Are we going in the right direction?” She smiles in relief, nodding. She turns back to the others and says, “The Traveler told me we’re on the right track.”

They run into another one of these traps midway through the tunnel. To conserve Jester’s spells, Caduceus tackles this one, stepping forward with his hand wrapped around his own holy symbol. Mystical vines emit from his other hand and wrap around the magical trap. When the spell shatters, flowers rain down on them, but they disappear the moment they hit the floor.

“Hopefully that’s the last one,” Nott says just as she steps forward.

There’s a flash and everyone is blown off their feet. Fjord skids across the tunnel floor, rolls twice, and then comes to a halt. The breath is knocked from his lungs when another person crashes into him, scooting him back a couple more inches.

He pushes himself to his hands and knees, trying to get his bearings. He hears someone move next to him and turns his head to see Caduceus sit up. He cradles his wrist to his chest, squinting down the hall to try and find the others, but the blast had blown out the candles in the immediate area.

“You alright?” Fjord asks and Caduceus nods. “The fuck was that?”

“Miss Nott set something off,” Caduceus responds, struggling to his feet. Light suddenly fills the tunnel, a bright ball shining from his staff. He reaches down to offer Fjord a hand, pulling him up when he takes it.

“Reckless little shit,” Fjord mutters moving back down the tunnel.

“I believe there is a saying, Mister Fjord. Pot calling the kettle black.”

Fjord looks over his shoulder at Caduceus, narrowing his eyes. “I’ve never done anything reckless ever.”

“Bullshit,” Beau responds appearing at Fjord’s side and startling him. “Sorry. You find the others?”

“Not yet.”

“We’re over here!” Jester calls from further down the tunnel. “There are more of these traps! Yasha almost landed in one!”

“What about Nott?”

“I don’t…” Jester trails off, whispering, “Oh no.”

“What?”

Caduceus in the lead, Fjord and Beau follow him towards Jester’s voice. She’s standing next to Yasha, both looking down at a small body lying on its side. Fjord crouches down next to it, reaching out to turn it over, and lets out a soft sigh.

“Does anyone have a way to unfreeze her?” he asks looking up at Caduceus and Jester.

“Is she even alive?” Beau kneels next to Fjord, checking Nott over. Her eyes are moving rapidly back and forth, a muffled scream emitting from her lips. She’s stiff but otherwise fine. “Yeah, she’s alive. Somebody get her up.”

Caduceus hands Yasha his staff and steps forward, resting his hands on either side of Nott’s face. A golden glow washes over her and slowly she starts to move again. When she has full control of her limbs, she sits up and shakes her head.

“Damn it,” she murmurs reaching for her flask. She takes a swig, staggers to her feet, and keeps moving.

Fjord meets Beau’s gaze and she nods, pushing herself up and hurrying to catch up to Nott. She takes point the rest of the journey.

* * *

The tunnel ends with a ladder leading up to a trap door. Beau gestures for Nott to go ahead of her and check for traps. She scrambles up the ladder, giving the door a few experimental taps, but doesn’t find anything.

“I think we’re good,” she calls down ready to push the door open.

“Hold on a second.” Beau looks over at Caduceus. “You wanna check for magical traps before we head inside?”

“I would, but Miss Nott has already opened the trapdoor.”

“What?” Beau turns, covering her face with her hand. “What the fuck?” She hurries after Nott. “I wanna find Caleb too, but we can’t save him if we’re dead.”

“It wasn’t even trapped,” Nott says over her shoulder, pushing herself up into a small cellar. She moves to the side when Beau pokes her head into the room, scooting over as best as she can so she can crawl in after her.

“Might be a tight fit,” Beau whispers down to the others. “Especially for Yasha and Cad.”

“We’ll manage,” Caduceus responds, appearing at the top of the ladder.

While the others pile into the room, Nott looks around for a way out. It’s not a very big area, but it’s packed with supplies. A few crates have food in them, but most are full of spell components. She pockets a few as she moves stuff aside; some for her, some for Caleb.

By the time everyone is crammed into the small space, Nott manages to find another trap door. She tests it, making sure there are no traps, and pushes it open. Pulling herself free from the cellar, she finds herself in a broom cupboard.

“Hey, up here,” she calls down to the others, keeping her voice low to avoid attracting attention.

One by one, the rest of the Nein emerge from the cellar. Nott presses her ear to the door, listening closely for anyone walking by, and when she doesn’t hear anybody she pushes it open and steps out into a large atrium.

There is a skylight above them, in the exact same shape as the large window directly above the front doors. A grand staircase sits in the middle of the room, branching off into two separate directions towards the middle, each step ordained with a different arcane symbol. Nott recognizes the ones for abjuration and evocation, but she couldn’t tell anyone what the rest are; Caleb could probably tell them.

She looks away from the symbols, letting her gaze settle on the two sets of armor standing on either side of the staircase. Both are holding the hilt of a greatsword, standing upright and staring straight ahead. Their visors have been pushed down, but from the lack of reaction at her sudden appearance Nott thinks it’s safe to assume nobody is inside.

“We’re good,” she calls to her friends.

One at a time, the Nein emerge from the room. They take a few seconds to look around, taking in their surroundings. Nott looks over at Fjord, who had originally wanted to come to this place, but he seems distracted. She makes a mental note to ask Jester to talk to him the moment she knows Caleb is safe.

“You can almost forget how evil this place is,” Beau comments and Nott can’t help the amused huff.

“Let’s keep moving,” Yasha suggests and the rest follow her towards the stairs.

“Wait,” Caduceus says, halting their progress.

“What?” Nott asks impatiently.

He doesn’t respond, but his eyes glow for a second. He furrows his eyebrows when he doesn’t see anything, reaching for his holy symbol. He waves his hand in the air, casting a spell, and frowns. “That armor is magical.”

They turn to give Caduceus matching questioning looks and he points at the two suits of armor. As one, they turn to look at them, waiting for something to happen, but nothing does; they turn back to Caduceus.

“Can you tell if they’re going to attack us?” Beau asks curiously. Caduceus shrugs. “That’s great. Wonderful. So, which one of us dumbasses is going to approach one of them first?” She looks around, nodding slowly. “Might as well be me. I’m faster.”

Yasha puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “I will do it. Just. Just make sure you keep an eye on the other one.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” Yasha drops her hand, reaching for her sword with the other one, and cautiously walks towards the armor on the right.

“I’ll get the other one,” Fjord volunteers reaching for his own sword.

Nott notices the second Beau, Jester, and Caduceus take note of what he’s doing, but nobody calls him out on it. Now is most definitely not the right time, but she knows by the end of the night somebody is going to talk to Fjord.

If he realizes they’ve caught onto what’s ever going on with him, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he approaches the armor on the opposite side of Yasha’s, meeting her gaze for just a second before reaching out and tapping the metal chest plate.

Nothing happens.

The Nein let out a collective breath, feeling like they dodged a bullet.

“See there’s nothing to worry about,” Fjord says, turning to address the others. “It’s probably some kid’s project or something.” He barely takes two steps away from the armor before it comes to life, swinging its greatsword directly at his head.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... we're still not near the end. Honestly, I thought this was going to be the last chapter... apparently this is turning into the never ending story :)
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the delay in getting this up. It's been a pretty stressful month and I haven't wanted to write, but I'll try really hard to get the next (and hopefully last) chapter written and published sooner.
> 
> Thank you so, so, so much for the comments, kudos, and bookmarks. I am sorry I don't respond to any of you, I know I really need to start, but know I do appreciate all the support this story is getting.
> 
> Please drop me a comment if you get the chance and see you in the next chapter 
> 
> Bye!!!

Blood trickles down Caleb’s face from his ears, nose, and eyes. He’s curled into a ball on the floor, clutching his head, breathing heavily. Trent walks towards him, crouching down next to him, and reaches out to stroke his hair.

“You won’t be able to turn them against me,” he says quietly. “No matter how hard you try; they’re mine. You are nothing to them.”

“I-I never thought…”

“Silence.” Trent grabs a handful of Caleb’s hair, pulling him up until they are eye to eye. He sneers at him, tightening his grip, and Caleb feels a few strands rip from his scalp. “You do not get to talk. Not anymore.” He drops him back to the floor and stands up.

Removing a cloth from his pocket, he wipes his hands. “You are of no use to me anymore. I see no reason to keep you alive other than to allow them to continue experimenting on you, but I’ve seen firsthand how little that is actually doing. Somewhere, deep down, they are afraid to unleash their full power onto you, and I cannot have that.”

Another flash of white bursts across Caleb’s vision and he screams in pain, clutching his head tighter. His body doesn’t seize up this time, and he’s able to drag himself away from Trent when the pain subsides. He crams himself into a corner, weakly pulling himself up, and he sags against the wall. He twitches a bit, holding his head in his hand, and chokes on a dry sob.

He notices Trent’s nose is bleeding, a bit like Eodwulf’s does whenever he uses too many of his psychic spells. Knowing his old mentor, Trent would never be affected like this with the spells Eodwulf had been using; this one must be powerful.

“I never should have brought you here,” Trent hisses, raising his hand to cast his spell one final time, but his head snaps up when something crashes above them, shaking the ceiling. “What was that…?” He looks down at Caleb, his fingers twitching with the need to finish what he started, but with a scoff he turns on his heel and hurries out of the cell, leaving the door ajar.

Caleb waits until he hears his footsteps disappear before shakily standing up. He stumbles, resting a steadying hand against the wall, and gives himself a moment before taking a tentative step forward.

Another loud crash shakes the ceiling again, sending dust raining down over his head, and for a few seconds Caleb wonders if his friends have finally found him, but he doesn’t allow himself to hope too much; with the academy it could be a number of things.

Carefully, he moves towards the cell’s exit, trailing his hand along the stone wall. He slowly pushes the door open, waiting for someone to stop him, but the corridor is clear. He creeps out of the cell, mopping up his bloody face with his sleeve.

He hears a few more crashes from above and somebody yells something unintelligible. A chunk of ceiling comes loose, slamming into his shoulder, and Caleb curses when his arm goes numb.

He clutches his new wound, moving further down the corridor, listening to the bangs, crashes, and screams. If whoever is making these noises really are his friends, he hopes they stay safe. He _needs_ them to stay safe. They are here because of him, and if they die it’s just more blood on his hands. He’s tired of trying to scrub away his past; he doesn’t want to think about trying to scrub away his present, too.

He turns the corner, just as a wave of vertigo washes over him, and he grabs for the wall. He leans against it, breathing through his nose. This is not the time. He needs to keep moving.

“ _Come on, you coward_ ,” he whispers to himself in Zemnian. “ _You did this to yourself. Now fix it_.” He lets go of the wall and staggers onward.

* * *

 _Wham!_ Fjord hits the ground hard, his ears ringing. He reaches up, touching the back of his neck, and his hand comes away bloody. He turns over, rolling out of the way of a second sword attack. The metal armor swings a third time, but Yasha steps forward and parries the blow, kicking the armor into the other set.

She reaches down, grabbing Fjord by the hand, and hauls him to his feet. She pushes him behind her, swinging at the armor as it stomps towards them, and sparks fly into the air when her sword slashes across the metal chest plate.

The second set comes to life, picking itself up, and clanks forward to help its friend. Beau meets it halfway, lashing out with her foot and knocking its helmet off. It skitters across the floor, but the armor keeps moving as if nothing happened. It swings wildly at Beau, but she dodges the attack. It tries twice more, missing each time, and Beau jumps up and slams both feet into its chest, knocking it back a step.

“The fuck are these things?”

“I don’t know!” Yasha slams her sword into the armor’s arm, denting the metal. “But I don’t like them!”

“They are dicks!” Jester calls to both fighters, clutching her handaxe. Her eyes widen and she suddenly screams, “Fjord, look out!”

He turns, parrying a blow from a third suit of armor. He blocks a second blow, but the third gets past his defenses and he cries out when the armor’s blade slices into his side. He raises his hand to send two blasts of Eldritch energy at the thing but drops it a second later when he remembers he doesn’t have his magic.

He curses and swings his sword upward, the tip digging into the metal. He yanks it free, taking another swing, missing completely. He grumbles in frustration, silently cursing Uk’otoa.

He hears a crash and looks over his shoulder to see Yasha slamming her sword into the downed armor, screaming with unbidden rage. It blocks as many of the blows as it can, but she keeps swinging wildly.

Fjord is very impressed and very scared.

He hears a clang, turning his attention back to the armor he’d been fighting, and sees a dent where one of Nott’s bolts hit it in the chest. He hears her load again, moving to the side to give her more room to work, swearing when something slices into his arm.

He turns, jumping back when a floating battleaxe swings at him. It swings again, cutting into his other side, and he grunts in pain. He looks down at his new wounds, watching his shirt soak up his blood. This is terrible and he hates it.

He keeps fighting.

* * *

Jester hurries forward, swinging at the armor Fjord had been fighting, her axe connecting with its chest plate with a loud clang. She uses her other hand to reach out and grab its wrist, casting Inflict Wounds on it. It seizes up for a few seconds, but not long enough, and its sword slices across Jester’s chest.

She screams in pain, sending a shockwave of hellish energy into it, and watches as the armor collapses to the floor in a heap, the metal scorched and smoldering. She turns to check on her friends, watching as a floating battleaxe knocks Fjord to the floor. It swings down at his head, but he rolls out of the way. Jester hurries forward to help him, standing over him and giving him enough time to get up.

Jester doesn’t know how to fight a floating axe, but she’s willing to try anything. She casts Guiding Bolt on it, watching as a flash of pink energy slams into the axe. It rocks back and forth, crashing into the floor, but it flies right back into the air.

It swings wildly, but Jester skips backwards, avoiding each attack. She hits it with some sacred flame, knocking it back to the floor, and summons her spiritual weapon. She cracks it down onto the axe, hitting it again for good measure, but when she tries to hit it a third time it swings up and knocks her weapon off balance.

She hears a clang from behind her, sparing a quick glance over her shoulder to see Beau kick the last suit of armor to the ground. It collapses in a heap, unmoving. Jester hopes it’s dead.

She turns back to the axe, hissing in pain when the blade slices into her arm. Another shock wave of hellish energy bursts forth from her and the weapon clatters to the floor; harmless.

They stand around in a loose group, breathing heavily, trying to get their bearings. Caduceus is the first to speak, his tone worried when he says, “We shouldn’t stay here.”

“You’re right,” Fjord responds and looks around the area. Jester copies him, frowning at their lack of options. It’s either the stairs, the broom closet they came from, or the double doors directly behind the staircase.

“Should we…?” Jester trails off, looking at her friends. “Split up?”

Fjord shakes his head. “Too dangerous. Let’s stick together for now.”

“Right.” Jester looks at everyone in the group and asks, “So, where do we go, guys?”

* * *

Fjord thinks a few seconds before nodding and heading towards the stairs. He stops short of the first step, looking down at the arcane symbol etched into the carpet. It looks familiar. He turns to Caduceus and Nott.

“Think the stairs might be trapped?”

“Give me a moment to look…” Caduceus trails off when Nott pushes past him and starts climbing the stairs. He sighs. “Or not.”

“Damn it, Nott,” Fjord grumbles, chasing after her.

The first few steps are harmless carpet with a fancy design, and Fjord makes the mistake of letting his guard down. His foot barely hits the step Nott managed to jump over when a bolt of lightening erupts through his body, sending him flying back into the others. Most of them tumble down the stairs, Fjord’s arm going completely numb when his left elbow slams into the banister, and they end up in a heap at the bottom.

Fjord sits up, holding his arm, and glares up at Nott. She shrugs and continues up the steps. Yasha and Beau, the only two who managed to avoid falling down the stairs, quickly chase after her. Fjord drags himself to his feet, helping Jester and Caduceus up, and the trio carefully follow them.

At the top of the stairs, Beau holds her hand up, putting a finger to her lips. She listens for a second before hurrying towards the closest room, the others quickly and quietly trailing behind her. She pushes the door open, ushering everyone inside, and is just closing the door when a three sets of footsteps approach the stairs.

They wait with bated breath, listening to the muffled conversation. When the footsteps disperse, Beau holds up a finger, waiting until they are completely gone before slowly pushing the door open.

“You think they’re lookin’ for us?” Fjord asks in a low voice.

“Most likely,” Beau responds quietly. “We need to pick up the pace.”

“Yeah.”

They hurry down the hallway. None of them know what they’re looking for, and Fjord is afraid to touch any of the closed doors. He’d be surprised if each and everyone one of these rooms isn’t trapped somehow; the entire school is probably trapped. How did Caleb survive this place?

He sticks close to Nott.

The hall wraps around into a circle, both sides leading to a large, mahogany door. It has more arcane symbols carved into the wood and the door knob has the Cyberus Assembly’s crest etched into the silver. It doesn’t take a genius for them to figure out which room they need to check first.

Fjord puts a hand on Nott’s shoulder, halting whatever she’s planning to do, and turns to the others. He gestures to the door with his head and says, “Cad, you think you can check for magic?”

“Yes.” He grabs for his holy symbol, casting detect magic. He nods sagely and turns to Fjord. “It’s trapped.”

“I figured as much.” Fjord slowly reaches out, tapping the door with his fingers. He feels a thrum of magic. He pulls his hand back, running it across his mouth. He turns to Jester. “Can you dispel the spell?”

“I can try.” She steps forward, rubbing her hands together. She reaches out, resting her hands against the door, and closes her eyes. Just like in the tunnels, her hands glow a bright green, and the door shimmers for a second before the spell shatters. Carefully, Fjord reaches out to tap the door again, but he doesn’t feel the thrum of magic.

“Good job, Jes,” he says offering her a kind smile. She returns it, ducking her head, and murmurs a quiet thanks.

When they try the knob it’s locked. Nott moves forward, pulling out her lockpick set, and gets to work. It takes her a few tries, her tiny body wobbling from the booze she thinks she’s been sneaking since this morning, but finally the door creaks open.

She puts her lockpicks away, nudging the door open with her hip, and they all carefully step forward.

“Wait…” Caduceus grabs Fjord’s shoulder, trying to stop him, but his warning is too late. The room shifts, and a wave of vertigo washes over Fjord. He closes his eyes, shaking his head slowly, trying to clear it. It passes quickly, and when he opens his eyes he and Caduceus are the only ones standing in the room.

“Where are the others?” he asks alarmed, looking around the area.

“I don’t-” Caduceus turns to the door. “Uh, Mister Fjord?”

“What?”

“We’ve got a problem.”

Fjord follows his line of sight, taking a step back. He reaches out, brushing his fingers down the wall. There’d been a door here; he’s sure there’d been a door. Where’s the door?

“Fuck.”

* * *

Beau turns in a complete circle, brushing her hair out of her eyes. She looks down at Nott’s perplexed expression and says, “The fuck?”

Nott shrugs.

“Where the fuck are we?”

Nott shrugs again.

“The fuck?” Beau repeats moving across the room.

They’re in a classroom. At least, it looks a lot like a classroom. There’s a chalkboard in the front with a half dozen tables facing it; a teacher’s desk stacked high with books sits at an angle near the back; bookshelves full of more books cover the east walls; bullshit she recognizes from her time studying with the Cobalt Soul. She thinks back to the few dozen naps she took when she was supposed to be paying attention.

She almost misses those days.

“Jester!” Nott calls moving across the room. “Yasha!” She looks behind the chalkboard, peeks under a few of the tables, her shoulders sagging when she doesn’t find anyone. “Fjord and Caduceus were standing right next to me.”

“Yeah, I know.” Beau walks slowly around the room, looking for a way out. “There must’ve been a second trap. Cad tried to stop us before we stepped into the room. It was probably dormant or something.”

“You think we’re still in the school?” Nott asks curiously, hopping up onto a table with a defeated sigh. She pulls her flask from her belt, taking a quick swing.

“Most likely.” Beau stops, putting her hands on her hips. “Listen I am all for drinking, believe me, but could you maybe slow down for a few minutes. I can’t do this by myself.”

“Fuck you,” Nott says, annoyed, but she still puts her flask away and hops off the table.

Beau rolls her eyes, muttering, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fuck you, too.”

Together, they search the entire room. Other than a door leading into a book room there isn’t a way out. Beau lets out a long sigh, resting her linked hands on the back of her head. She paces back and forth, trying to think.

There has to be a way out.

“This is a classroom,” she thinks out loud. “Maybe we have to, I don’t know.” She gestures, searching for the correct word. When it doesn’t come to her, she lets out a frustrated breath and repeats, “I don’t know.”

“Probably have to do math,” Nott suggests sneaking a sip from her flask.

“Ugh, math.” Beau walks by her, stealing her flask, and keeps pacing.

“That’s rude.”

“Uh-huh.” Absentmindedly, Beau takes a drink, making a face. “Eugh, what is that?”

“A bad investment at this point,” Nott responds accepting the flask when it’s handed back to her; she clutches it to her chest.

Beau grunts in response, walking towards the chalkboard, chewing on her thumb nail as she studies it. She drops her hand, carefully reaching for the chalk on the ledge. She picks it up, expecting something to happen, but nothing changes.

“Fuck.”

“What are you doing?” Nott asks warily.

“I don’t know.” Beau writes _fuck_ on the board. She snorts, writes a few more swear words; draws a dick for Jester. She grows bored quickly, dropping the chalk back onto the ledge. She dusts her hands off, turning around to look at Nott. She leans against the board, crossing her arms, and lets out a soft sigh. “Can you send one of the others a message? See if they’re able to help us?”

“I can try.” Nott pulls her wire from her pocket, holding it up to her mouth. “Jester? Hello, Jester?” She waits a beat, chewing on her lip worriedly. “Nothing.”

“Try Yasha.”

Nott tries Yasha. Nothing. She tries Fjord and Caduceus. Still nothing. She shoves the wire back into her pocket, taking a swig from her flask.

“Another plane?” Beau guesses.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find whoever put us in here and kill them.”

“Duly noted.” Beau pushes away from the chalkboard, rubbing her forehead. “How are we getting out of here?” She walks around the room again, growing progressively more irritated with each step. She’s with Nott; they should kill whoever put them here.

For the hell of it, she moves around to the desk, digging through the drawers. Other than a half a dozen empty ink wells, a stack of blank paper, a hawk feather quill, and some extra chalk she doesn’t find anything useful.

“Damn it.” She slams the last desk drawer, falling heavily into the chair she’d yanked out from under the desk during her search, and crosses her arms. She glares at the room, jiggling her leg, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

Nott wanders aimlessly around the room, poking at random stuff. She stops in front of a rickety cabinet, staring at it for a long moment, before backing up and summoning Mage Hand. She looks over her shoulder and explains, “We’ve been attacked by too many inanimate objects.”

Beau nods in understanding. She stands up, intrigued, watching as Nott’s magical hand reaches out and yanks the cabinet door open. The room shifts and suddenly a door stands where the cabinet stood.

“Whoa.” Beau steps forward, stopping next to Nott. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t,” Nott confesses, shrugging. “I was hoping there was something expensive to steal.”

“Spite stealing?” When Nott nods, Beau smirks. “Nice.”

Carefully, they step out into the hallway. They’re nowhere near the original room, but they’re still in the academy. Beau guesses they’re on the other side of the manor. She looks down at Nott, opening her mouth to ask her what she wants to do, and sighs when Nott hurries down the hall. Occasionally, she’ll check a random door knob, calling out to their friends in what she thinks is a quiet voice.

Beau gestures wordlessly at her, a warning on the tip of her tongue. She decides its not worth it and trails after Nott.

* * *

Yasha hacks at another wall, splintering the wood. Jester blocks her face to keep from getting debris in her eyes. She doesn’t think this method is working, but the room they’re locked in is empty, they’re all out of ideas, and the Traveler is being very unhelpful right now.

“This isn’t working,” Yasha says after a brief pause, putting her sword back into its sheath.

“It was a good try,” Jester responds, trying to be encouraging.

Yasha shrugs, staring broodily at the floor. She chews on her thumb nail for a few seconds, thinking. When she doesn’t come up with an actual solution, she lashes out, slamming both fists into the wall. She backs away, scowling at the two imprints she left in the wood, and stalks away.

As Yasha paces furiously around the room, Jester starts searching for a way out again. She runs her fingers along the walls, pushes every odd divot in the wood, but still she finds nothing. With a frustrated sigh, she crosses her arms and slides to the floor. She watches Yasha pace; back and forth, back and forth. She reminds Jester a little of Beau whenever she feels helpless. They’re two take charge women who didn’t handle idleness well; Jester wants to draw Yasha so bad.

She’s just about to take her sketchbook out of her bag when she hears the _thunk_. She sits up, listening carefully, jumping up when she hears the _thunk_ again. She moves towards Yasha, stepping in front of her and halting her pacing.

“What is it?” Yasha asks, her hand reaching for her sword.

“Did you hear that noise?”

“What noise?”

“The thunk?”

Yasha furrows her brow. “Thunk?”

Jester nods frantically, gesturing around the area Yasha had been pacing. “You were walking and then I heard a thunk. Didn’t you hear the thunk?”

“No, I didn’t hear the thunk.”

“Okay, okay, okay. Let’s just walk around and see if we can find it.” Jester starts walking around the area Yasha had been pacing, listening carefully, stopping short when she hears the _thunk_ again. She drops down, pulling her hand axe from her belt, and starts hacking at the carpet.

Intrigued and a little confused, Yasha drops down next to her and starts tearing at the floor with her bare hands. Together they rip a large chunk of the carpet up, throwing it to the side. Slowly, they uncover a trapdoor.

Yasha sits back on her heels, running a hand through her hair. She shares a look with Jester, silently asking her what to do, and Jester shrugs. The door could be a trap; it could be a way out. Neither one had a way to be sure.

“I’ll open the door,” Yasha volunteers after a beat. “You step back.”

“Yasha, be careful,” Jester says worriedly, pushing herself to her feet and taking a few steps back. She covers her mouth with her hands, watching as Yasha pries the door open with her fingers. It creaks open, cracking against the floor, and they wait with bated breath for something to happen.

Nothing.

“I think we’re safe,” Yasha says peering into the trapdoor.

“Are you sure?” Jester cautiously steps forward, looking down into the dark hole.

Yasha shrugs.

“Should we? Should we go down there?”

“I’ll go first.” Yasha pulls her sword free, gripping it tightly in both of her hands, and drops down through the door. Jester listens, expecting to hear her land, but her stomach tightens when she doesn’t hear anything.

“Yasha!” she calls frantically. “Yasha, where are you? Yasha?”

A hand appears out of nowhere, startling Jester, and she stumbles back, barely holding in a scream. She bats it away, reaching for her hand axe, only to force herself to stop. She recognizes that hand.

“Yasha,” she whispers. The hand reaches for her again and Jester slowly takes hold of it. She has enough time to pick up her hand axe before she’s yanked through the trapdoor.

She finds herself in the hallway they’d originally started, several doorways down from the room they had attempted to walk into. Yasha stands next to her, still holding her hand, but quickly releases it when she realizes what she’s doing, her cheeks turning pink.

“Sorry,” she says softly.

“It’s fine.” Jester looks at the open doorway directly behind her and it takes her a second to realize this is the trapdoor they’d come through. “Illusion spell?” she says looking back at Yasha.

“I am not an expert in magic,” Yasha confesses with a defeated shrug. “I couldn’t tell you.”

“It’s okay.” Jester gives her a kind smile. “We’ll assume it’s an illusion.” Curious, she sticks her head into the open door and it pops out in the trapdoor, revealing the empty room again. “This is weird.”

“Jester…”

“Okay, okay, okay.” Jester backs out of the room, nearly running into Yasha. “This place is strange.”

“Yeah.”

Jester chews on her lip, glancing up and down the hallway. “Should we go find the others?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

They hurry down the hallway, occasionally checking doors. It makes sense. The same spell that transported her and Yasha to a different part of the academy most likely affected their friends, too. The others might trapped in any of these rooms.

Most of the doors are locked, but one or two open to reveal living quarters. None are as weird as the trapdoor room.

Jester is a little disappointed.

They just make it back to the stairway when Yasha grabs Jester’s hand and pulls her into the closest unlocked door. They huddle against the wall, listening closely as footsteps move past the room. They expect them to keep moving, but the footsteps slow and suddenly grow louder as they move back towards their door.

Yasha points to her sword and then towards the door, silently asking Jester if she should attack whoever is outside the room. Jester frantically shakes her head, not wanting Yasha to go anywhere near whoever is out there, and instead summons her duplicate.

She waits for whoever is out there to open the door. If they do, her duplicate is going to cast Inflict Wounds on them. Hopefully it’ll be enough of a distraction for her and Yasha to get past whoever they are and run away in the opposite direction.

At least, Jester hopes Yasha runs with her; she doesn’t know what’ll happen if that door opens and the not knowing worries her a little.

The footsteps slow near their door but then they continue on, becoming fainter and fainter until they disappear around the corner. Yasha holds up her hand, waiting a few seconds longer, and then nods and opens the door.

Jester and her duplicate tiptoe out after her, clutching tightly to their hand axes. Too bad duplicate Jester’s is just an illusion, it’d be nice to have three armed fighters instead of two. Jester knows Yasha can handle herself, but she’s had a few too many misses with the old hand axe. Sometimes she wonders if keeping the sickle would have brought her better luck.

Probably not.

They hurry past the stairway, looking over the balcony briefly to see the remains of the animated armor still laying on the floor downstairs. Jester really, really hopes they’re dead. Or unanimated. She’d rather not have to deal with them again.

Yasha stops suddenly and Jester has to skid to a halt to avoid running into her.

“Yasha, are you okay?” Jester maneuvers around her friend, standing in front of her. She’s staring vacantly at something on the floor, but when Jester follows her gaze she doesn’t see anything. “Yasha, what’s wrong?”

“I wouldn’t worry about her,” a soft voice says from behind Jester.

She turns, looking around for the source, taking a step back when an older, human man appears near the stairs. “Who are you?” she demands, but she has a vague idea who this man is; he’s the reason they’re all here. “What did you do to Yasha?”

The man gives her a cruel smile. “She’s fine. I don’t need her right now. As for you, I don’t need you at all.” He raises his hand, a green light crackling across his fingers, but before he can cast his spell he grunts in pain, collapsing to the floor.

Beau stands over him, her body tense, her lips curled into a snarl. “Bitchithon, I presume,” she says and kicks him again.

* * *

The office Fjord and Caduceus find themselves in is everything he pictured when he thought of Trent Ikithon. Fancy desk no doubt made from some ancient tree; a painting of his ugly ass mug over an ornate fireplace; bookshelves lining the walls, full of books written in languages Fjord didn’t understand; matching golden carpet and wallpaper; a high ceiling. Just a bunch of ostentatious bullshit that some manipulating douchenozzle felt he deserved. A way for him to brag without actually saying anything. He’s no different than the rich assholes Fjord saw growing up in Port Damali.

He really hates this man.

Fjord is poking around the desk, throwing anything useless onto the floor, looking for something to help them get out of this room. Somewhere in the background Caduceus chats animatedly with a spider or whatever (he stopped paying attention about twenty minutes ago), his distractions becoming less and less endearing the more worried Fjord becomes. Their friends are missing, Caleb is gods know where, and here Caduceus is talking to a fucking bug. In frustration, Fjord grabs a paperweight, intending for it to join the rest of the shit on the floor, even if it’s out of spite, when he hears stone grinding against stone.

Fjord turns, eyes widening in surprise when he sees the fireplace slowly start to lower itself into the floor, revealing a secret passageway. He seeks out Caduceus, hoping he’s not the only one seeing this, and sure enough he has his head tilted, curiosity shining brightly in his eyes.

“That’s neat” Caduceus says, impressed.

“Yeah, well, it’s probably also a trap,” Fjord responds already walking towards the passageway. He hears Caduceus trail after him, his staff thudding against the floor as he walks, and both stop at the foot of a stone staircase.

“I’ll go first,” Fjord volunteers after a short pause, pulling his falchion free from its scabbard.

“Are you trying a new thing? Keeping your weapon with you? I don’t remember you carrying it around before.”

Fjord takes a step back, looking at Caduceus warily. “What?”

Caduceus’ face and tone are openly curious when he says, “Your sword. I don’t really understand how that magic works, but I always thought you summoned it.”

“I did. Do. Let’s go.” Fjord stalks forward, ignoring the concern in Caduceus’ eyes, and starts walking down the stairs. He hears a soft sigh before heavy footfalls trail after him. He pushes away the fear that settles in his chest. He does not want to have this conversation right now.

 _But you will have to eventually_ , he reminds himself, a nasty voice in the back of his that sounded a lot like Sabien. _They’ll ask and you’ll break. You’ll break and tell them, and they’ll abandon you like you’ve always feared._

 _Stop it,_ he tells himself, his breath hitching. _Just stop._

He pushes through the anxiety attack and forces himself to keep moving, ignoring the eyes he can feel drilling into the back of his head. He doesn’t need anyone worrying about him, least of all Caduceus. This isn’t about him right now. This is about finding Caleb and the others. Preferably alive and safe.

He’ll deal with his shit later.

The stairs lead them down into a dark, stone corridor. Caduceus’ staff immediately comes to life the moment he steps off the bottom step, a bright light illuminating their path. Fjord shields his eyes, trying to keep himself from being blinded. Caduceus shrugs sheepishly and dims the light.

“My apologies.”

“It’s fine.”

Fjord takes the lead, moving slowly down the corridor. The light helps, his dark vision isn’t the most reliable at a distance, but he’s prepared to tell Caduceus to kill it if he should see anything. If he’s being honest, Caduceus will probably see the thing before him, but that’s only because of his freakishly high perception.

 _He has the perception Caleb wishes Frumpkin had_ , Fjord thinks holding back a hysterical laugh. He might be cracking a bit under all of this stress.

He feels a hand settle on his shoulder and Caduceus asks, “Are you okay, Mister Fjord?”

“I’m fine,” Fjord lies, his chest tight, gently shrugging away the attempt at comfort. “Let’s go.”

The corridor twists and turns, leading them further and further into the unknown. Fjord thinks back to the tunnels they used to get here; thinks about the hallway upstairs. Neither is anywhere near these corridors. He had seen manors in Port Demali, he knows they are not nearly as big as the interior of the academy. Magic is definitely involved, but he has never seen anything like this. Caleb could probably tell him more.

He hates how interesting this place is.

Eventually they stumble onto a metal door, hidden in a dark corner of the corridor. Curious, Fjord reaches out and tests the knob, turning it easily. He carefully pushes the door open, clutching his falchion in front of him, and pokes his head inside.

The walls are bare and white, giving the place an almost foreboding feel. There’s a lone table in the middle of the room. Chains are bolted to the floor, the manacles resting on the surface. A partially covered cart sits next to it, the corner of the sheet brushing against the stone floor, the hilt of a knife just in view.

Fjord has an idea what this room is and anger pulses through his body.

“What is it?” Caduceus asks, trying to look around Fjord.

“Nothing,” he says gruffly, slamming the door shut before Caduceus can see inside. “Not a goddamn thing.”

Ignoring Caduceus’ skeptical look, Fjord stalks away from the room.

It doesn’t take them long to find the cell. Empty, the door ajar, it doesn’t take a genius to know Caleb had been held here. Fjord doesn’t know how long ago, but it couldn’t have been too long. There’s fresh blood on the floor.

“You think he’s hurt?” he asks, looking up at Caduceus’ worried look.

“Maybe.” Caduceus crouches down next to Fjord, studying the blood. “It’s not enough for a serious wound, but it’s still blood.”

“True.”

Fjord stands up, heading towards the cell door. “Let’s keep going.”

“Yes, that’s-”

The cell door swings shut and Caduceus’ staff goes dark.

“The fuck?” Fjord rushes towards the door, trying to push it open. It doesn’t budge. “Come on!”

“Mister Fjord?” Caduceus calls, his hand brushing Fjord’s back and startling him. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“My magic isn’t working,” Caduceus says softly, and Fjord nearly tells him to join the club.

Instead, he says, “Something is fucking with us.”

“Or someone.”

“Yeah. Or that.”

Fjord steps away from the cell door, maneuvering around Caduceus, and slowly circles the room. He doesn’t see anyone, but he’s known Nott and Caduceus long enough to know that doesn’t mean anything. He reaches out, his fingers brushing the air. He tries it in every corner, but doesn't find anything hidden in the shadows.

No one is in the cell with them.

“You sense anything with that freaky undead thing you do?” he asks, looking in the direction of Caduceus.

“My magic…”

“Yeah, I heard that, but don’t you have some kind of ability. You know, like Yasha does…”

Caduceus squeezes his eyes shut, tensing up. He lets out a gust of breath, his eyes popping open, and he shakes his head. “No.”

“Great.” Fjord walks back towards the cell door, giving it another tug. “I guess we could-” he trails off, reaching for his sword. Something is walking towards the cell.

“Get ready,” he says over his shoulder.

“For what?” Caduceus brushes against him again, trying to peer over his shoulder. “I can’t see anything, Mister Fjord.”

Fjord doesn’t respond, gripping the falchion’s hilt tightly, preparing to start swinging if this thing starts attacking them. The thing gets closer and closer and Fjord raises his sword only to lower it when Nott pops into view. Relief floods through him.

“If you use that on me I’ll bite you,” she says sharply and Fjord can’t help the soft, amused snort.

“Can you let us out?”

“Give me a second.” She pulls out her lockpick set and starts fiddling with the lock.

“How did you find us?” Fjord asks curiously, watching her work.

“I didn’t mean to,” she admits cursing under her breath when the lockpick slips. “I got lost and I walked through the wrong door. I hate this place.” The lock clicks, the cell swinging open, but before Nott can take a step back a green flame slams into her and sends her back into the darkness.

“Nott!”

* * *

Caleb knows where north is; that’s an ability he’s had since he’s been a kid. His mother had had the same ability. He knows where north is, always knows what time it is, can usually remember specific details for long periods of time. His brain is his greatest weapon, for the most part, and it has rarely failed him.

Until he came to the academy.

He knows where north is, but he’s gotten turned around a dozen times. It’d been fun, as a kid, trying to remember his way back to his dorm despite the school’s habit of constantly changing, but now it’s really fucking annoying.

He curses when he turns left and finds another corridor. He knows there are stairs around here somewhere, had taken them dozens of times when he’d been training to be an scourger, but he’d been with Trent at the time. Trent knows this place better than anyone; helps maintain the wards.

Caleb would rather stay lost than ever go near him again.

He walks for another fifteen minutes. His feet are sore, his head is aching, and he wants nothing more than to slump against the wall and just go to sleep. He almost gives in when he accidentally stumbles on a set of stairs.

He nearly cries.

Caleb stumbles towards them, leaning against the banister as he drags himself up. Each step feels like a ten foot climb, he is so tired, but he manages to get to the top. He pushes open the wooden door, expecting Trent’s office, but he’s standing in the dining hall instead.

“Better than nothing," he says aloud, closing the door behind him and stepping further into the room.

It hasn’t changed. Several tables are neatly placed around the room, each one set for eight. A large table stands at the front for the teachers. A set of double doors near the back lead into the entrance hall while two single doors to the left lead into the kitchen. The three floor-to-ceiling windows on the right wall bring in daylight for breakfast and lunch while the crystal chandeliers hanging over each table are lit every evening before dinner. Arcane symbols are painted onto the ceiling, more for decoration than anything else, but Caleb knows there are some symbols around the academy that have been activated.

It’d been a game between him, Astrid, and Eodwulf, trying to find out which symbols were active and which were just for show. They became really good at avoiding spells that way.

He crosses the room, carefully stepping around the tables. He stops when the kitchen door swings open, ducking behind a chair, and watches as Fjord stumbles into the room. He stops, confused, looking around, his yellow eyes settling on Caleb.

“Who’s there?” he calls, peering around the table.

“It’s. It’s me.” Caleb stands, watching Fjord warily. “Are you alone?”

“I am right now,” Fjord responds, stepping further into the room. “Damn place so is big. Got lost.” He looks Caleb over, giving him a relived smile. “You alright? We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Caleb wants to believe so badly that this is Fjord, but his head has been messed with so many times over the past few days that he’s having a hard time. He swallows heavily, taking a deep breath, and asks, “How did you find me?”

“We figured Astrid and Eodwulf would have brought you back to the academy. Or at least we’d start here and see where that takes us. We were attacked within minutes of entering this place.”

“The armor?”

“Yeah.” He gives him a cheeky grin. “Project of yours?”

Caleb shakes his head. “Not. Not me. The Assembly. Their spells are to keep the public out.”

“I figured as much.” Fjord runs a hand through his hair, looking around the room. “How’d you get around here when you were a kid? The place is a maze.”

“Yes, it is.” He looks around Fjord towards the kitchen. “Where’s the last place you saw the others?”

He shrugs. “I don’t even remember. We fought off the animated armor, headed up the stairs, ended up getting turned around in the hallway. The next thing I know, everyone has scattered and I’m trapped in an empty room. Took me a bit to find a way out, and I somehow ended up in the kitchen.”

“We should look for the others,” Caleb suggests. “Perhaps find my coat and my books. My spell components are in the pockets.”

“Lead the way,” Fjord says gesturing towards the double doors. “Something tells me you know this place better than me.”

“Not as well as I used to,” Caleb admits softly.

“I trust you.” Fjord smiles, but it slowly slips off his face. He takes a step back, clutching his head, and cries out.

“Fjord!” Caleb rushes towards him, reaching for him when he starts to collapse to the floor, but his hand goes through his body. “Fjord?” His form shifts and disappears and Caleb backs away from him, breathing heavily.

“I’m just messing with you, Bren.” Eodwulf steps out of the kitchen, grinning. “Should have used the half-orc sooner. Though, something tells me the goblin means more to you.”

“Are my friends here?” Caleb demands, taking another step away from Eodwulf.

He sneers. “Somewhere. They did not waste any time tracking you down. Persistent, aren’t they?”

Caleb tries to move back even further but his body seizes up. Eodwulf steps forward, smirking at him, and stoops down so he can meet Caleb’s gaze.

“Leaving so soon?” Eodwulf places his palm against Caleb’s chest and a force surges through his body, sending him flying into one of the tables. He bounces off, crashing into a chair and breaking it under his weight.

He rolls over onto his side, struggling to take in a breath. Eodwulf grabs him, yanking him to his feet, and he struggles to break free of his hold. With a malicious grin, Eodwulf picks Caleb up and slams him into the table.

“I want you to know, this isn’t personal.” Eodwulf says and slams Caleb into the table again.

“It feels personal,” Caleb gasps out, tasting blood in the back of his throat.

Edowulf considers his words. “Okay, maybe it is.” He slams Caleb a third time; dragging him off the table and throwing him onto the floor.

Caleb scrambles to his knees, ignoring the aches and pains stabbing down his back, and throws a firebolt at Eodwulf. It slams into his side, knocking him into the table, and Caleb uses the distraction to stand up and shuffle backwards towards the door.

He breathes heavily, clutching at his side. He looks frantically at Eodwulf, stalking towards him, and conjures a crackle of orange energy in his hand. He flings it out in front of him, throwing three magic missiles at him, each one impacting into Eodwulf’s chest and sending him flying across the room. When he crashes to the floor, he rolls over onto his side, groaning, and Caleb turns and hurries towards the door.

He bursts into the entrance hall, sprinting towards the door, but skids to a halt when Astrid steps in front of him. Above he hears the familiar sounds of fighting, but he doesn’t know if they’re friend or foe. Right now, he’s a bit preoccupied to care.

“Astrid…”

She doesn’t acknowledge him, her eyes settling on something behind him, and hands grab Caleb, dragging him back into the dining hall. She follows him into the room, her gaze cold when it meets his, and he accepts that this could very well be it. They’re probably going to kill him before his friends can find him; they walked into this death trap for nothing.

He closes his eyes.

_I am so sorry._

* * *

Beau punches Trent in the face. She punches him again, stunning him, and then kicks him, knocking him onto his side.

“I’ve been wanting to meet you,” she says standing over him, her fists raised. She’s ready to start swinging if he moves even an inch. “Have a few people I need to avenge. Starting with Caleb.”

“Beau, there’s something wrong with Yasha,” Jester says and Beau looks over at her, furrowing her brows when she sees Yasha standing near the banister, staring blankly at the floor.

“She’s not charmed again is she?” Beau asks cautiously.

“I don’t think so.” Jester tries to catch her gaze, gently tapping her face. “Yasha, are you okay? Yasha?”

She blinks, shaking her head, and Yasha’s eyes meet Jester’s. “Jester?”

Jester smiles. “Yeah. Are you okay?”

“I am fine. I couldn’t move.” She looks past Jester, her gaze darkening, and she yanks her sword free from its sheath. She stalks towards Trent, breathing heavily, and swings her sword down, carving into the man’s side. She swings again, but her attack goes wide and she leaves a gouge in the carpet.

Jester moves forward to help, but she stops suddenly. She turns on Beau, summoning a ball of sacred flame, and Beau back peddles to avoid being hit by the spell. She throws her hands out, exasperated, and punches Trent again.

“Stop.” She punches him a second time. “Charming.” A third punch. “My.” A fourth, breaking his nose. “Friends.” Her fifth punch misses, Trent rolling out of the way, and Beau hisses when her fist impacts with the floor.

She shakes her hand, cursing, jumping back when Yasha brings her sword down towards Trent’s chest. Jester grabs her from behind, knocking her attack off balance, and lifts her off her feet. Yasha screams in pain when Jester casts Inflict Wounds on her, her body seizing up.

Beau shoves her staff under Trent’s neck, lifting his head up, and says, “Undo whatever you did to her.”

He grins, his teeth stained with blood, and Beau is knocked off her feet, slamming into the floor. Her staff flies out of her hand, rolling down the hall. She curses, pushing herself to her knees, her hands curled into fists. Lightning crackles from the left one, forming around her glove, and she throws her fist out. The lightning sails through the air, but Trent’s eyes flash and the attack misses him, slamming into Yasha instead.

“Mother fucker.” Beau pushes herself to her feet, picking her staff up and rushing across the short space between her and Trent. She’s going to put her fist through his face.

She hears Yasha scream again, another jolt of Inflict Wounds flowing through her body. She struggles to break free from Jester’s hold without hurting her; as much as it pains Beau to admit it, Yasha might have to hurt Jester just a bit.

Trent pushes himself up, his face bloodied, more blood soaking through his robe. He reaches into his pocket, pulling something out, and starts moving his hands. A glowing, orange bead starts to form, looking a lot like what Caleb conjures whenever he casts fireball, and Beau hurries forward to stop him before he sets the place on fire.

To her left, she hears Jester cry out, and turns for a split second to see Yasha break free. Blood trickles down Jester’s lip from where, Beau assumes, Yasha’s elbow had impacted. It’d been enough to bring Jester out of whatever Trent did to her, her tongue swiping out to lap away the blood. She hisses in pain.

“I am sorry,” Yasha says softly, guilty.

“It’s okay.”

“No. It’s not.” Yasha storms away from Jester, hurrying towards Trent. Before Beau can warn her, she swings her sword down, carving into Trent’s head. He drops like a sack of potatoes, his hands falling limply to his side. His fireball flickers for a moment, and Beau waits for it to go out.

It brightens suddenly, pulsing. Once, twice.

“Oh shit…”

The hallway explodes

* * *

Nott rolls to her feet, cursing under her breath. She is getting sick and tired of being thrown around the room.

Fjord and Caduceus hurry towards her, Caduceus’ staff bursting to life the moment he leaves the cell. She shields her eyes, crying out, and hears a soft apology as the light dims.

“The fuck was that?” she demands gesturing to the door.

“Probably a trap,” Fjord responds sarcastically.

Nott glares at him but doesn’t say anything, picking up her flask. She dusts it off, shoving it into her pocket, and rubs her chest. It’s still burning a little, and she’s certain if she were to check she’d find a welt.

“Do you know where everyone else is?” Caduceus asks curiously, gently touching the side of her face and sending the familiar warmth of healing magic through her.

She shrugs. “This gods damn school. Beau and I were in this stupid classroom. We left through a cabinet, ended up in the hallway, and then I lost her.”

“How’d you lose her?” Fjord asks suspiciously.

“I just did.”

“Probably ran ahead and she lost you.”

She glares at him again. “Shut up.”

“I knew it.”

She doesn’t kick him, as badly as she wants, and decides to ignore him, addressing Caduceus instead. “Where did you two end up? Beau thinks whatever spell had been on the door had been dominant until someone walked inside.”

“An office,” Caduceus responds wandering down the hallway.

Nott narrows her eyes at him before reluctantly returning her attention to Fjord. “What sort of office?”

“Ikithon’s office. About what I expected from him.”

“Did you shit on his desk?” she asks curiously.

Fjord sighs, exasperated. “No.”

“Shame.” Nott turns, trailing after Caduceus. “Where are you going?” she calls out to him.

He doesn’t respond, turning the corner, and she lets out a frustrated breath, picking up the pace. She hears Fjord trailing after her, but she doesn’t slow down. He’s a lot taller than her; he can keep up.

Caduceus leads them to a metal door and Nott hears Fjord sigh. Ignoring him, Caduceus pushes the door open and steps inside. Nott follows him, something cold slithering into her stomach when she takes in the room.

“What…?” she feels sick. “Is this where…?” she turns to Fjord, seeing the anger he doesn’t bother hiding burning in his eyes. “It is, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he responds, shaking his head.

“Why are we here?” Nott demands, whirling around to look at Caduceus.

He doesn’t respond, slowly moving around the room. He looks troubled, his gaze deliberately avoiding the table, but it’s obvious he’s looking for something. He walks towards a chest Fjord had missed earlier, kneeling down, and studies it.

He looks up, listening to something, and nods. He opens the chest, pulling something free, and walks back towards Nott and Fjord.

“Mister Caleb would like these back,” he says, holding up a ragged coat and a holster with two books inside.

“How the fuck did you find those?” Fjord asks taking the holster and coat from him and adding them to his bag of holding.

“The Mother,” he responds with soft smile. “She thought he would need them, and I agreed.”

“Tell her thanks,” Nott says sincerely. “And you,” she turns on Fjord, “don’t lose those.”

He rolls his eyes. “Not the first time I’ve kept them safe.”

“Don’t lose them,” Nott repeats and heads towards the door.

Fjord snorts and trails after her, Caduceus right behind him.

They step out into the hallway, heading back into the direction Fjord swears Trent’s office is, but when they come to where the stairs were they find a wall.

“No. Come on!”

“You sure those stairs were here?” Nott asks with her hands on her hips.

“Yes,” Fjord responds through gritted teeth. He rests his forehead against the wall and murmurs, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I am happy I decided not to study here.”

“Me too,” Nott admits with a soft sigh.

He offers her a pale smile. “Thanks Nott.”

She turns, heading in the opposite direction. “Let’s find a way out, okay?”

“Yeah.”

They wander around for another few minutes before Caduceus offers to ask his goddess for help. Fjord and Nott share a look before agreeing, watching as he settles cross legged on the floor.

He draws some symbols into the stone with a piece of chalk, digging around in his bag for some incense. He carefully places each piece around the symbols, reaching up to remove his earring, and adds it to the components.

“It’s okay,” he says cheerfully. “I have another one.” He closes his eyes, breathing deeply. “I need absolute quiet.”

Fjord and Nott take a step back, watching him silently. He murmurs under his breath, nodding along, listening to something they can’t hear, but finally his eyes snap open. He stands, wiping chalk off his hands, and starts walking away from them.

Nott meets Fjord’s gaze for a brief few seconds before they both hurry to catch up with Caduceus. He walks past the room they’d found Caleb’s coat, turning left, and makes an immediate right. They follow, wary yet intrigued, and twice Nott almost asks if Caduceus knows where he’s going, but stops herself. He must know; he’s not wandering aimlessly like he usually does.

Nott is trusting this Wildmother.

After twenty or so minutes of walking, Caduceus finally leads them to a set of stairs. He looks up, smiling, and murmurs, “Thank you, Mother.”

Nott allows Fjord to go first, placing herself directly behind him, and follows him up the steps. She waves at Caduceus behind her, letting him know to snuff out his staff, and the stairway sinks into darkness. Used to Caleb having trouble seeing in darkness, Nott absentmindedly grabs Caduceus’ hand. She startles him, but he accepts the help, squeezing her fingers in thanks.

The stairs lead them to a wooden door. Fjord waits until Nott and Caduceus are next to him before reaching out and pushing the door open. The room appears to be a dining hall, the sunlight from the windows basking the room in a warm, golden glow. Had Nott not been on a mission she would have started searching for something to steal. This place is too fancy to not have some intricate silverware.

The door on the far end slams shut, drawing their attention to the three people standing in the room. Nott recognizes Caleb immediately, but before she can call out something explodes above them. The room shakes violently, the windows shatter, and everyone is knocked off their feet.

Nott scrambles up, pulling her crossbow free from her belt, and hurries into the room. She skids to a halt when she finds the room empty. Swearing under her breath, she sprints towards the double doors, ignoring Fjord when he yells her name.

She bursts out into the entrance hall, shielding her eyes when she’s met with a wall of fire. She screams Caleb’s name, coughing harshly, waving the flames away. With a frustrated breath, she turns and hurries back into the dining hall, waiting for Fjord and Caduceus to join her.

“The place is on fire,” she says nodding behind her at the burning entrance hall.

“Who the fuck set it on fire?” Fjord asks, giving the flames a wary look.

“The fuck if I know. Did you see Caleb?”

“I thought I did.” Fjord turns to look towards the spot he’d seen Caleb. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” Nott hurries towards one of the other doors, bursting into a kitchen.

“Isn’t it wise to leave?” Caduceus asks looking over his shoulder, checking to make sure the flames haven’t spread into their room yet.

“We’ll leave when I find Caleb,” Nott snaps and stalks further into the kitchen.

“What about the others?”

Fjord’s question makes Nott pause. She doesn’t know what happened to Beau, she hasn’t seen Yasha and Jester since the spell in Trent’s office separated them, and if she’s being honest she’s worried one or all of them might be the reason the building is on fire. But she saw Caleb, she had him within reach, and now he’s gone again. Taken away from her by, who she assumes is, Astrid and Eodwulf. She has to get him back.

She sighs and says, “Go find them then. I’m looking for Caleb.” She stalks off, listening to Fjord grumble something inaudible but he still hurries after her. A few seconds later, Caduceus also follows and the trio rushes out of the kitchen and through another door near the stove.

Straight into the burning hallway.

Nott really fucking hates this place.

* * *

Beau’s eyes snap open. She’s laying on her side on a broken door, her eyes ringing. It takes her a moment to orient herself, checking her limbs over for anything broken. When she’s satisfied, she rolls over onto her stomach, struggling to push herself up onto her hands and knees.

She coughs, shaking her head, and hefts herself up. She staggers out of the room, picking up her staff when she spots it. She carefully maneuvers around the burning hallway, stumbling back towards the place she last saw her friends, leaning on her staff for support.

She tries calling their name, but she inhales too much smoke and begins coughing, stopping to bend over and brace her hands on her knees. When Beau is able to move again, she pulls her vest over her nose, blocking the smoke as best as she can, and continues forward.

She walks past a smoldering Trent, his blackened body curled in on itself. She fights the urge to kick him, her friends’ well being more important to her than petty revenge, and keeps moving. She doesn’t find Jester or Yasha, worry settling in the pit of her stomach. She hopes Jester used dimension door to get them to safety. Any other scenario is not an option.

Beau skids to a halt when a door suddenly opens and three people stumble out. She hears a familiar voice swear loudly, cursing the entire academy, and Beau can’t help asking, “The fuck did you go?”

Nott screams, turning to look up at Beau. “Where have you been?”

“I asked you first.”

She narrows her eyes, shaking her head. She turns, stomping down the hallway, yelling Caleb’s name. Beau watches her go for a moment before shifting her attention to Fjord and Caduceus. She shares a tired look with Fjord, he sighs, and they chase after Nott.

“Why is everything on fire?” Fjord asks, pushing his own shirt over his nose.

“Ikithon’s final stand, I guess,” Beau answers, looking back at the man’s husk. “He cast this spell. It looked a bit like when Caleb casts Fireball, but when Yasha killed him everything just exploded.” She spies Nott ducking into a nearby room, too far ahead for her to call out to her, and speeds up.

“He blew everything up?” Fjord easily keeps pace with her. “What could he possibly gain by destroying everything?”

“I don’t know, but the place is on fire and we kinda need to get out of here before we all burn to death.”

“We have to find the others first,” Caduceus chimes in, using a piece of fabric to cover his mouth.

“I know we do, but let’s hurry. Burning to death is not high on my list of priorities right now.”

They manage to catch up to Nott, following her into the room they’d seen her enter, and find themselves in a tower. There’s a long table smack dab in the middle of the room with chairs encircling it. A massive map of Wildemount is pinned to the back wall, notes written in Zemnian scrawled across it. A huge, glass window lights up the area, giving them a nice view of the city.

Beau recognizes the window immediately, the Cyberius Assembly’s symbol has been haunting them since they found it on Caleb’s amulet. She turns away from it, not needing the reminder right now, and her gaze settles on Nott.

She’s kneeling next to Caleb, pressing her cloak into his freely bleeding side. When she sees them, she snaps, “Don’t just stand there. Help him.”

Beau leads Caduceus and Fjord over to Caleb’s side, moving back a few steps to give Caduceus room to work. He kneels next to Nott, reaching out to touch Caleb, but his hand drops suddenly and he falls to the floor.

“Cad!” Beau crouches down next to him, shaking his shoulder. “Caduceus, wake up.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Fjord asks, looking around the room.

Nott smirks suddenly, her gaze darkening, and her form begins to shift. Beau watches with wide eyes as Nott changes into a brown eyed, brunette woman. She’s never seen this person before in her life, but she’s not stupid. She knows exactly who she is:

Astrid.

“Where’s Nott?” Beau demands curling her hands into fists.

“She’s right here.”

Beau and Fjord turn towards the new voice. Eodwulf steps out of the shadows holding a squirming Nott by the hair. He pulls her off her feet, her boots brushing the carpet, and shakes her roughly.

“Let her go,” Beau says raising her fists.

“You going to fight me, girl?” Eodwulf asks, amused.

“Say the word and I’ll put my fist through your fucking eye.”

Eodwulf narrows his eyes and tosses Nott to the side. She hits the floor, bouncing into the wall, and groans in pain. Paying her no mind, Eodwulf conjures a ball of ice and throws it at Beau.

She jumps out of the way, landing on the table, and watches as the ice ball narrowly misses Astrid, exploding against the wall. Astrid stands up, glaring at Eodwulf, but he doesn’t notice. His eyes are on Beau.

“Are you with the Cobalt Soul?” Edowulf asks, intrigued.

“What do you think?” Beau retorts, taking her defense stance.

“I think I’m going to enjoy sending your head back to your people.” Eodwulf throws another ball of ice at Beau. This one hits her in the chest and a sudden cold surges through her body. She’s knocked back onto the table, her limbs stiff.

She shakes off the spell, scrambling to her feet, and rushes at Eodwulf. She jumps off the table, aiming a kick at his head, and feels so much satisfaction when her foot connects. She kicks him again, this time in the stomach, and when he bends over in pain she cracks her knee against his nose.

Beau crouches down, taking in Eodwulf’s pained expression, and whispers, “What’s that you said about sending my head back to my people?”

“Fuck you.” Eodwulf grabs her wrist, and Beau grunts when a jolt of electricity creeps up her arm. She yanks herself out of Eodwulf's grasp and backs away, clutching her wrist.

He stands, spitting blood onto the floor, and stalks towards her. Behind her, Beau can hear Fjord swinging his sword at Astrid. To her left, Nott is pushing herself to her knees, baring her teeth, cursing when she can’t find her crossbow.

Beau lashes out when Eodwulf is within reach, cracking her staff against the side of his head. She swings around, driving her elbow into his chest. She drops her staff, freeing up her hands, and punches him in the cheek.

He staggers back, struggling to take a breath. She can tell he’s getting angry, and she knows he’s going to start getting sloppy. She’s hoping he does; he’ll be a lot easier to take down the more he messes up.

Eodwulf gains his breath back after a few seconds, his whole body trembling with anger. Beau is expecting him to attack her, either magically or physically, and she's more than ready to throw a few punches in retaliation.

She's not expecting him to sprint at her and tackle her out of the window.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long wait. I've had this saved on my computer for a while thinking I was going to add more, but then I was like "Eh, let's have one more chapter." So, yeah.
> 
> Thank you for reading and being patient for the next chapter and drop me a comment if you get the chance.
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and comments last chapter :)

They appear outside of the academy. Jester stumbles, looking around, surprised that her spell even worked. Yasha reaches out to steady her, clutching her cloak loosely in her fist when she looks up at the manor, her brow creased with worry.

“Beau is still inside,” Jester says softly, her eyes shining with tears. “What if she’s…?”

“She’s not. She’s…” Yasha rubs her nose, reaching for her sword. “We need to go back inside. Find her and the others. Make sure Ikithon is dead.”

“He blew up everything. He has to be dead, right?”

Yasha shrugs.

They hurry back towards the front entrance, skidding to a halt when they find a wall where the door used to be; Yasha curses under her breath. She jogs around the building, cursing again when she doesn’t find any way inside.

“Jester, how are we going to get to the others?”

“I don’t know.” Jester closes her eyes, reaching for Yasha’s hand, and tries to cast Dimension Door again. The spell fizzles out. “Shit.”

“What?”

“My spell didn’t work this time.” She chews on her bottom lip, looking around the immediate area. “Maybe we could break a window.”

Yasha doesn’t respond, moving towards something glittery scattered across the grass. She crouches down, examining hundreds of shards of glass, but when she looks up there aren’t any windows.

“I think the academy is sealing everyone inside,” Yasha comments quietly, looking back at Jester.

“But why?”

“I don’t know.” Yasha runs a hand through her braids, turning in a half circle. She turns back to Jester and says, “Jessie, you did that, that dispel thing. In the tunnels. Can you do it again? Maybe we can get inside if…” Something shatters, and Yasha’s head snaps towards the sound.

She runs towards it and Jester quickly trails after her. They round the corner, looking up at the tower. Two figures are falling out of the window, glass raining down around them. Yasha grabs for Jester, pulling her into her chest and shielding her from the glass with her body.

She risks another glance up, watching as both figures slow down just as a third figure, much smaller than the other two, jumps out after them.

“Oh no!” Jester raises her hand, clutching her holy symbol in the other one, and the smaller figure morphs into a sparrow.

One figure lands lightly on her feet, the sparrow landing gently on her shoulder, while the other figure impacts into the ground. He doesn’t hit nearly as hard as he should have, and Yasha suspects a spell may have been cast.

“Beau, are you okay?” Jester asks peeking around Yasha’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Just-” Beau looks down at her bleeding arms, wincing when she yanks a long piece of glass from her skin. “I’m fine.”

“Beau don’t.” Jester pulls free from Yasha, hurrying towards Beau. She reaches out, gently touching her bleeding arm, and heals as many of her cuts as she can, giving her a kind, yet worried smile.

“Is Nott okay?” Beau glances over at Nott who bobs back and forth on her shoulder. “She’s not bleeding or anything?” The sparrow ruffles her wings, shifting back and forth on her feet. Her eyes dart towards the man and Beau follows her gaze.

“Is he dead?” she nods towards the guy.

“I don’t think so.” Yasha turns to check on him, but Beau catches her wrist, shaking her head. “Who is-?” it dawns on her quickly and she narrows her eyes. “Eodwulf?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you-?” Yasha gestures to his bruised and bleeding face.

Beau smiles smugly. “Oh yeah.”

“Where are the guys?” Jester asks before Yasha can respond, looking towards the academy.

“Still up there.” Beau takes a step back, looking up worriedly. “Caleb looked pretty bad, but I couldn’t check on him, and Cad dropped like a ton of bricks.”

“What does that mean?”

“Somebody stabbed him.” She nudges Eodwulf with her foot. “Was that you?” He groans, turning over onto his side. “And I think that bitch Astrid put some kind of sleeping spell on Cad. She looked like Nott when we walked into that tower, but we didn’t know this-” she kicks Eodwulf, “-fucker had her.”

Sparrow Nott takes flight, landing gently on Jester’s head, and pecks at her hair. Nodding in understanding, Jester reaches up and takes the bird between her hands. She sets her carefully on the ground and with a quick wave of her hand Nott morphs back into her goblin form.

“What the fuck, Nott?” Beau says and Nott gives her an insulted look.

“You’re welcome,” she says sharply.

“That wasn’t going to kill me.” Beau gestures to the tower. “The boys could have really used your help.”

Nott anxiously looks up at the tower. “How do we get back inside?”

“All of the doors are gone,” Yasha tells her, looking troubled.

“How are they going to get out?”

“We got out.” Jester points at herself and Yasha. “I think. I think maybe the academy will let them out, but it doesn’t want anyone going inside. I think it might be trying to protect itself.”

“Is that why we could, you know, use that spell?” Yasha asks curiously.

“Maybe.” Jester shrugs. “This is magic I don’t understand. Caleb could probably explain it.”

“He’s not explaining anything if we can’t get him out,” Nott says desperately.

“Fjord and Caduceus were with him,” Beau points out.

“Caduceus can’t heal him if he’s asleep! And Fjord can’t fight Astrid and protect them from Ikithon.”

“He’s dead,” Beau, Yasha, and Jester say together.

Taken aback, Nott says, “He’s what?”

“He’s gone. Dead. Blew his fucking ass up like the coward bitch he is,” Beau explains quickly. “We watched him.”

“He nearly killed us,” Jester says softly.

“So, he’s dead?”

They nod.

“Good.” Nott turns to Eodwulf, slowly moving towards him, and crouches next to his head. “What do we do with him?”

“I can kill him,” Yasha volunteers, reaching for her sword.

“Maybe…”

Furrowing her brow, Beau demands, “What does that mean? Maybe?”

Nott doesn’t respond, her expression unreadable as she continues to study Eodwulf. She shakes her head a few seconds later, turning her gaze to the others, and says, “We should move him. Before he wakes up.”

“To where?”

“Anywhere but here.”

Yasha shares an uncertain look with Beau and Jester before stepping forward and slinging Eodwulf’s body over her shoulder. Nott stalks ahead of her, moving away from the academy and towards the woods. With every step she takes away from the building, she throws a worried look over her shoulder at it. She wants desperately to get back to Caleb; Yasha wants to help her friends, too.

She’ll find them a way into that manor the moment she puts this burden down.

They accidentally stumble onto a locked tool shed. Nott picks the lock, shoving the door open, and gestures to the corner. Yasha nods, dropping Eodwulf to the floor, moving back so Beau can tie him up.

She watches Beau work for a moment, about to suggest she make the ropes as tight as possible, but she loses her train of thought when a soft voice in her ear says, “ _You need to get to Caleb, Yasha. He’s in trouble. You need to save him.”_

“Yasha!”

She ignores Jester’s shout, hurrying out of shed and back towards the academy.

She must save Caleb.

* * *

Fjord hears the glass shatter and watches in horror as Beau and Eodwulf disappear out of the window. He wants to go check on her (Eodwulf could splatter into the ground for all he cared), but Astrid chooses that moment to lash out with a bloody dagger.

Fjord brings his falchion up, parrying the blow, shoving her back and forcing her away from his friends. Behind him, he hears Caduceus groaning. Hopefully, he’s waking up, and if not he hopes Nott can get him up.

“You’ve ruined him,” Astrid snarls, swinging her dagger up.

Fjord jumps back, narrowly avoiding the blade. “I haven’t ruined anyone.”

She sneers at him, lashing out a second time. She misses again. Frustrated, she drops her dagger and presses her hand against Fjord’s chest, sending a shockwave of pain through his body.

He doubles over, losing his grip on the falchion, and Astrid kicks him to the floor. She picks his sword up, holding it over her head, and swings it down, aiming for his chest. She jumps back when a wall of flames erupts in front of her, her face twisting with rage.

Fjord tilts his head back, letting loose a relieved breath when he sees Caleb standing above him, holding his side with one hand, the other raised, fingers bloody and trembling as he casts his spell, his face unreadable as he looks at Astrid.

Scrambling up, Fjord shuffles away from the firewall, catching Caleb’s arm when his legs start to give out. He looks around for Caduceus, watching him as he drags himself to his feet, slowly shaking his head.

“Alright, we gotta go. Nott!” Fjord waits for a response, feeling his heart sink when she doesn’t say anything. His gaze darts towards the window. “Oh please tell me she didn’t go out after them.”

“Who?”

Fjord shakes his head, hurrying towards the tower’s door, helping Caleb walk and making sure Caduceus is with him, sparing a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Astrid is still trapped behind the firewall.

He curses when he finds the room empty.

Fucking figures.

He hurries the others along, not liking the way the flames dance merrily around the room. If the academy survives the night Fjord will be surprised.

They burst through the tower door, stopping short when they find themselves in the kitchen. The room is full of smoke, flames trickling down into the room from holes in the ceiling. They need to get the fuck out now.

Fjord reaches back with his free hand, grabbing Caduceus’ wrist and yanking him forward, directing him towards the door. When they step out of the kitchen they find themselves in the hallway, hot flames crackling on either side of them.

“Goddamn it,” Fjord grumbles letting out a frustrated breath. He turns to Caleb, leaning heavily against him, clutching weakly to his side, and lets his inquiry go for now. He has more important things to worry about than asking for an explanation of the academy’s protection spells.

They hurry down the hallway, carefully stepping through the flames. Fjord covers his face with his shirt again, directing Caduceus to do the same, and shields Caleb’s head as best as he can, waving smoke out of his face.

There’s a narrow path down the stairs, flames engulfing the wood rapidly, and Fjord pulls Caleb closer to him to keep him out of the fire. Caduceus is right on his heels, his wrist still in Fjord’s grip. If they stick together they’re going to get out of this alive.

The entrance is directly in his line of sight.

They are almost there.

The stairs collapse.

* * *

“Yasha, wait!” Jester calls chasing after her. “Yasha!”

Yasha keeps running, her longer legs covering more ground than Jester’s much shorter ones, and Jester has to practically sprint to keep up with her.

The academy is completely on fire when it comes into view. Jester covers her mouth with her hands, icy fear slithering in her stomach. Fjord, Caleb, and Caduceus are still inside.

She turns away from the academy, seeking out Yasha, her heart clenching when she sees her kicking the wall where the entrance used to be, a feral scream ripping free from her throat.

“He’s in there,” she snarls, kicking the wall again. “Why can’t I get to him?”

“Who?” Jester asks, curling her hands into fists and pressing them into her lips.

Yasha doesn’t answer. She jumps off the steps, moving around the building, looking for an entrance they both know doesn’t exist. Jester takes a step forward to follow her but stops when she sees a half a dozen guards rushing towards the academy.

“Oh.” She ducks down into a clump of bushes, watching as the guards approach Yasha, their hands resting on their swords.

“Miss,” one calls out, reaching out to her. “Miss, do you know anything about this fire?”

He touches her shoulder and Yasha lashes out, her sword piercing his side. He cries out, dropping to the ground, and the others surround her, pulling free their weapons.

“No.” Jester doesn’t know what’s going on and she hates it. She needs to help Yasha, but she doesn’t know how. “Oh.”

She reaches out, attempting to cast Hold Person on the closet guard, but he shakes off the spell. She ducks down again when he looks around, backing further into the bushes.

A tear rolls down her face, followed by another, as Jester watches Yasha carve into another guard. He staggers back, clutching at his arm, and calls out, “Careful with this one! She appears to have gone mad!”

“I-I have to get to my friend, and you will not stop me,” Yasha snarls and swings at a third guard. He parries the blow, bringing up his shield to block another one, and shouts for back up.

More guards appear, overwhelming Yasha, and Jester stands up to help. A guard spots her, just as another knocks Yasha to the ground, and she calls out, “Don’t hurt her!”

“Hands where I can see them,” the guard says to her, just as five more bind Yasha’s wrist with chains. She struggles, her foot lashing out and connecting with one of their knees. He cries out, stumbling back, but he’s replaced by another.

Jester raises her hands, looking back at the academy, and sends a prayer to the Traveler that her friends make it out okay.

* * *

Fjord groans, turning over onto his side. He hits the ground twice with his fist, cursing. He takes a few seconds to gauge how badly he’s hurt. When he’s certain he’s not bleeding heavily, he struggles to sit up, looking around.

He’s still on the stairs, flames crackling around him, thick smoke trickling into his lungs. Coughing, he staggers to his feet, using the broken railing for support. He spots Caduceus first, kneeling at the bottom of the steps, his head bent, hands braced on his thighs.

Fjord carefully makes his way to Caduceus’ side, keeping an eye out for any sign of Caleb. He reaches down to help Caduceus up, pulling him to his feet, and pushes him towards the door.

“Get out. Find some help. I’m going to look for Caleb.”

“Fjord, with all due respect, I’m not leaving either of you,” Caduceus says softly, picking his staff up.

“Don’t do this. I have no idea if the girls are okay, Caleb looked half dead-” Fjord trails off, curling his hands into fists. “I need you to get help. A guard, a paladin, the Wildmother herself. I don’t care. Just go.”

Caduceus shakes his head, gripping his staff tightly, and Fjord lets out a frustrated sigh. He turns away from him, squinting into the burning entryway, tapping Caduceus’ hand when he spots Astrid standing over Caleb, Fjord’s sword held in her right hand.

Her gaze catches Fjord’s and she smiles, raising the sword above her head. Fjord steps forward, unsure what exactly he wants to do, but Caduceus shoulders past him, rushing across the room at a speed Fjord has never seen from him, and grabs the sides of Astrid’s face  as she swings her sword down, narrowly halting her attack.

A black shadow curls around her body, emitting from Caduceus’ tall frame, and she cries out. Astrid stumbles back, dropping Fjord’s sword, clutching her chest with one hand and weakly pushing at Caduceus with the other.

“What… what is happening?”

“Cad, what are you doing?” Fjord asks, taking a cautious step towards him. “Caduceus stop!”

Caduceus doesn’t respond, more tendrils pouring off him, and Fjord has to look away, his attention returning to Astrid. She’s aging, rapidly, her frail body slumping against Caduceus, her hand dropping from his chest.

She falls to her knees, gasping for breath, and Fjord moves to stand between her and Caduceus, taken aback by the blackness in his eyes. He reaches out, grabbing Caduceus by the shoulders and breaking the connection between him and Astrid, and shakes him roughly.

Caduceus shakes his head, blinking twice, and his vision clears. He looks around, confused, and when he meets Fjord’s gaze he whispers, “Is Caleb okay?”

“Yeah, man, he’s fine.” Still clutching Caduceus’ shoulders, Fjord asks, “What did you do to her?”

“I-I don’t-” Caduceus shakes his head. “I never use the spell. I just-” He looks over at Caleb and repeats, “Is Caleb okay?”

Fjord lets him go, raising his hands, and says, “Let’s, let’s check. Okay?”

Caduceus nods.

“Okay.”

Together, they walk towards Caleb. Fjord occasionally spares a furtive glance in Caduceus’ direction, expecting the black eyes and tendrils again, but he looks completely normal albeit tired.

Caleb is laying on his stomach, his head tilted away from them, and for a brief moment Fjord actually thinks he’s dead. Relief floods him when he sees Caleb’s back move up and down; he’s breathing.

He’s alive.

For now.

“Can you heal him?”

Caduceus rubs his hands together, kneeling next to Caleb, and carefully turns him over. His shirt and coat are covered in blood, more plastering his hair to the side of his head. They need to get him out of here now.

“I can heal him, but it would be best to do it outside,” Caduceus says, gently touching the side of Caleb’s face.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping him from bleeding out.”

“Okay.”

Fjord hears a pained moan. He turns, looking down at Astrid. She’s still kneeling, slumped forward, arms hanging loosely at her side. She’s breathing, but each breath is a struggle, and Fjord feels bad for her. She is who Caleb could have been; she doesn’t deserve this.

“Can you help her?” he asks nodding at Astrid.

“I’d need 10 minutes,” Caduceus responds gently picking Caleb up. He cradles his body to his chest, shielding his head as best as he can from the smoke.

“Leave… me…” Astrid rasps, drawing in a ragged breath. “I-I don’t want your help.”

“You’d rather die than let us help you?” Fjord shakes his head. “Ikithon really fucked you up, didn’t he?”

Astrid laughs, breaking off into a harsh cough. “Fuck… you…”

Fjord picks up his sword, weighing it in his hand. He thinks over his options, gripping the hilt of his falchion tightly, and then puts it back in its scabbard. He steps forward, gathering Astrid into his arms, and follows Caduceus towards the door.

She doesn’t say anything, keeping her head tilted away from him, but Fjord doesn’t go out of his way to talk to her either.

When they step out of the academy, they find themselves in the back. The moment Fjord walks out of the door it slams behind him and melts into the stone.

He follows Caduceus down the steps, gently laying Astrid on the ground. He waits for Caduceus to do the same to Caleb, but he keeps a hold of him, clutching him protectively to his chest.

“You sure you don’t want to be healed?” Fjord asks Astrid, crossing his arms.

Astrid takes in a wheezing breath, letting it out. Her gaze settles on Caleb, his head resting against Caduceus’ chest, one arm loosely draped around his neck, the other curled around his body. He’s still bleeding but not nearly as bad as before; he’ll be fine with time.

Hopefully.

She watches him, her expression hard to read. She closes her eyes, shaking her head, and says, “I am already dead. Just do it.”

“But we’re offering to save you.”

“Just. Do. It.” She points to a dagger strapped to her leg. “Do it or I will do it myself.”

“What about him?” Fjord gestures to Caleb with his head  
  
“Bren died seventeen years ago,” she whispers, dragging in another harsh breath. “Eodwulf is probably dead. Ikithon too. I have nothing.” She meets Fjord’s gaze, a soft voice filling his head, and whispers, _“Do it.”_

He nods, pulling his sword free, and before Caduceus can stop him he swings it down and pierces Astrid’s chest.

She cries out, her gaze clouding over, and she stills.

Fjord drops his sword, taking a step back, and shakes his head. He looks around, cursing when he realizes she had gotten into his head. He turns to Caduceus, wanting to apologize, but he staggers back when he hands Caleb to him, moving around him to approach Astrid.

He kneels next to her, reaching out and gently touching her face. He closes his eyes, his hands glowing a warm, orange, and Astrid slowly starts to decompose. He bows his head, murmuring a prayer to the Wildmother, and stands up.

Wordlessly, he takes Caleb back from Fjord and starts walking back towards the front of the academy. Fjord looks back at Astrid, his heart heavy, and slowly follows his friend.

The moment they step around the corner, they are bombarded by a dozen or so guards. Fjord wonders for a moment if Caduceus is going to give up Caleb, but his hesitation is hardly noticible.

As their friend is carried off by two guards to the hospital, Fjord and Caduceus are put in chains. They spot Jester, sitting on the steps, clutching her knees as best as she can while wearing chains of her own, but the others are nowhere to be seen.

Fjord tries to ask if anyone has seen his friends, but no one is answering him, and he can’t get close enough to Jester to get any useful information. Frustrated, he follows his friends and the guards to the stockade.

* * *

**NOW...**

Eodwulf chuckles softly in Nott’s ear and the room shifts. She stares at the closed door, the trap still active, and wishes she had her crossbow. She glares at him, hoping he sees every once of hatred she feels for him in her gaze.

He grins, stepping away from her.

“I am just fucking with you,” he says moving across the room to check his trap. “But they are coming. I sent…” he trails off, considering his next word, “Caleb,” his lip curls at the name, “a little hint.” He looks over at her, malice dancing in his eyes. “That is, if they care for a useless goblin.”

Nott flinches and looks away, staring intently at the wall. She blinks, trying to clear the stray tears that clings to her eyelashes. She does not want to let this fucker get to her, but she can’t escape that small voice in the back of her head, reminding her that she is a goblin. A useless, alcoholic goblin who let herself get captured.

_"They’d be better off without you_." She almost believes it, but she sees Eodwulf’s mouth move out of the corner of her eye.

“Get the fuck out of my head,” Nott snarls, turning her attention back to him.

Blood trickles down his face from his nose and he swipes at it, frustrated. He shakes his head, turning on his heel, and begins drawing another trap directly in front of Nott.

“Just in case,” he says over his shoulder, winking.

_“Are you there, Nott? Can you hear me?_ ” She barely keeps still, closing her eyes, a part of her relieved to be reminded he cares. It’s also nice just to hear Caleb’s voice, but she can’t warn him to stay away.

She hopes when she doesn’t respond he goes; leaves her and takes the other back to Xhorhas. She’s willing to face her abandonment issues head on if it means Caleb and the others are safe.

Her eyes sting when he continues, _“I understand you can probably not respond right now, but know we are coming for you. Hold on.”_

Silently, she weeps.

* * *

They try to leave Beau behind, but she threatens to eviscerate them in their sleep if they do. They know she won’t hurt them, probably, but they don’t fight her when she stalks out of the shack holding her stomach. Jester volunteers to help her hobble along.

“Come morning,” she promises, “I’ll heal you up properly.”

“You think this’ll leave a cool scar?” Beau asks curiously, prodding her bandaged stomach. She winches, and Jester gently pushes her hand away.

“Leave it alone. You’ll make it bleed more,” she warns in a hushed tone.

She waves off Jester’s concern, but she still leaves the wound alone.

Caleb tried a few times to message Nott, but he hadn’t been successful in getting an answer. He’s concerned, Fjord can tell, hell they all are, but he keeps making excuses as to why she’s not responding.

He doesn’t want to say it a out loud, and he can tell Yasha doesn’t either, but they might have to be realistic about the situation. Eodwulf doesn’t have any reason to keep Nott alive, he knows they’re coming to get her regardless. He could have killed her the moment he took her, dumped her body somewhere, and they’re walking into a trap.

Fjord hates the idea. He and Nott may give each other a hard time, but he doesn’t want her to die. She has her son, her husband, Caleb and Jester, and the rest of the Nein. They need her, and maybe they don’t say it enough but they do; maybe they should remind her every once in a while.

But they have to find her alive first.

His eyes settle on Caleb, moving at a swift pace, heading in the direction of his best friend, choosing to face his past in order to save his present. Caleb might never be able to actually tell her, but he loves Nott more than the rest of the group and he stands to lose the most if she dies.

For Caleb’s sake, Fjord hopes they find her alive.

The trail leads them to the outskirts of Rexentrum. They have to squeeze under a hole in the gate, most likely used by teenagers to sneak out after dark. When Beau leaves behind a smear of blood, she waves off their concern.

“I’m fine,” she says stubbornly, but Fjord can see the way she clutches tightly to Jester. She’s sweating, her face pale and her eyes drooping. If she makes it to wherever they’re going without passing out he will be surprised.

“Do you think Eodwulf went this way, Caleb?” Jester asks curiously, her worried gaze darting to Beau.

“He most likely used a spell,” Caleb responds, distracted, holding his copper wire in his hands. “Nott may be a goblin, but the guards would still recognize him carrying a body. Invisibility to get out of the gate, circle around while the guards are distracted looking for us. We are essentially taking the long way.”

With a dejected sigh, he puts his wire away and continues on ahead. Fjord shares a worried look with Jester and Yasha before trailing after him; the quicker they get to Nott the better.

“Mister Caleb, when we find Nott Eodwulf will be there,” Caduceus says calmly over his shoulder.

“I know,” Caleb responds softly.

“We may have to-” Yasha trails off, watching the way his shoulders stiffen.

After a few seconds, he nods. “I know.”

They keep walking in silence.

* * *

The sun is just starting to set when they find the house. Caleb recognizes the stone structure immediately, a cold chill creeping down his spine as fear grips his heart. He never wanted to see this place again yet here he is standing outside.

Trent’s house.

Caleb walks up to the front door, no longer needing Caduceus’ spell, and stops right in front of it. His hands are shaking as he reaches out and touches the door, drumming his fingers against the wood. He turns to the others and offers them a brittle smile. He opens his mouth to tell them they can turn back, let them know he’s willing to do this on his own. This isn’t their fight, they need not die for him, but before he can utter a single word Fjord moves past him, patting his chest, and tries the door knob.

“Locked,” he grunts, crossing his arms.

“Most likely trapped,” Caduceus murmurs and his eyes flair. “There are a few magical traps inside but the door appears fine. We should be careful.”

Caleb nods, staring at the door. He touches it again, closing his eyes, and steps back when a loud knock echoes in the air. The door swings open and he peers into the dark interior.

“Let’s stick together,” Caduceus says softly, moving to stand directly behind Caleb. “Keep our eyes peeled, try to dispel as many of these traps as we can, and we’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

In pairs, they slowly move into the house. Caleb conjures his Dancing Lights, letting them circle their heads, and a dim, yellow glow lights their way. They find themselves in an ornate entryway, dusty from disuse. There are tapestries covering the walls, a swirl of color to cover up the dark soul of a corrupt man, but only one catches Caleb’s attention. An eye, electric blue and always watching, hangs near the stairway like an ominous reminder. Trent warned them he had ways to keep track of their movements while inside this house. It took Caleb too long to realize what he meant.

If he is to believe his friends, Trent is dead. He can’t watch him anymore. The sentiment doesn’t make him feel any better; especially with the portrait of Trent looming over them from above the fireplace. Shrewd eyes stare directly at him, a cruel smile just barely noticeable on Trent's jaundice face.

Caleb looks away.

Bunching up, they slowly search the lower level of the house, but other than dispelling a few small traps they don’t find Eodwulf or Nott. Fjord suggests they try upstairs, but Caduceus stops next to a wooden door next to the kitchen and studies it closely. He looks troubled when he returns his attention to the others.

“Where does this lead?” he’s looking at Caleb. He knows Caleb has been here before, and it’s another one of those moments he curses Caduceus’ perceptiveness. He didn’t want anyone to know he’d spent time here. The academy had been bad enough; this place still gave him nightmares.

“Cellar,” Caleb responds through numb lips, ignoring the five sets of eyes staring at him as he watches the door. “I, uh, I don’t…” he shakes his head.

“Could Miss Nott be down there?” Caduceus asks softly, looking as if he wants to reach out and attempt to comfort Caleb. He hopes he fights the urge; he doesn’t want to be touched right now.

“Probably.”

Caduceus nods and looks back at the door. His eyes glow and he sighs, nodding again. “I don’t think the door is trapped.”

“You sure?” When Caduceus confirms Fjord’s question, he steps forward and tries the knob.

It’s locked.

“Anyone know how we’re getting down there?” Fjord asks looking back at the group. His eyes settle on Beau, and she raises her hand.

“I gave Nott my lock picking set. Don’t look at me.”

“I-I will do it.” Caleb steps forward and casts Knock again. The door swings open and he looks down the dark stairway.

“Want me to go first?” Fjord asks softly, standing directly behind Caleb.

Caleb considers nodding but manages to shake his head. He walks into the darkness, listening carefully to make sure the others are directly behind him. He still doesn’t want them to risk their lives for him, but he appreciates the fact that they are here.

At the foot of the steps he casts Dancing Lights again. Hands catch him as he starts to sway and he has to close his eyes. He breaths, calming himself down as best as he can, and forces himself to look at the room.

There are chains bolted into the wall directly to his right, gently swinging back and forth. To his left, he knows there are two cells. He dares not look at the cells. At the end of the hall is a door.

He stares at it, his stomach twisting into knots. He wants to leave so badly, but he makes himself go forward. This is for Nott. He is doing this for her.

“This seem too easy to you guys?” Beau asks curiously, trying to pretend like she isn’t using Yasha as a crutch.

“Ja,” Caleb responds nodding slowly.

The closer they get to the room the harder Caleb’s heart pounds in his chest. He wishes he had Frumpkin draped across his shoulders. He needs that familiar, comforting purr right now.

A hand suddenly grabs his shoulder, halting his progress, and he looks back to see Caduceus giving the room a worried scan. He closes his eyes, listening closely, and Caleb finds himself doing the same. The snort surprises him, and his eyes snap open just in time to see an iron bull barrel right into Fjord, knocking him backwards into Caleb.

* * *

 

The bull reels back, slamming its hooves into Fjord chest and knocking the air from his lungs. He hears something crack and it takes willpower to not pass out. He sits up, his eyes widening when he sees the bull standing over him, and scrambles back, ignoring the pain as he drags Caleb with him, both narrowly avoiding another attack.

It snorts, running after them, reeling up for a third attack. This hit sends Fjord skidding into one of the empty cells, bouncing off the stone wall with an audible crack. He sees stars and it takes him a moment to regain his bearings.

Coughing, he stands up, watching as the others scatter as best as they can, the bull snorting and slamming its hoof into the floor. They really have to stop bunching up like that; it never goes well for any of them.

 Fjord summons a ball of Eldritch energy, hurtling at the bull, but the attack goes wide. Gritting his teeth, he tries again, satisfied when the green light slams into the things and sends it back a step.

It snorts, furious.

Jester steps forward, conjuring a ball of pink flame, and throws it at the bull. It rears back, snorting again, and she scuttles away from it, partially hiding behind Yasha.

Caleb looks up at the bull, too close for comfort, and throws a panicked firebolt at it. It strikes the bull, some of the oil dripping off of it catching fire, and Fjord lets out a soft squeak he hopes nobody hears.

They have a flaming metal bull to worry about now.

_Great._

Beau shakes off Yasha’s loose grasp, sprinting across the floor, adrenaline virtually taking her pain away, and lays into the bull. She misses the first hit, hissing when she turns wrong and pulls on her side. Her second hit also goes wide and she lets out a frustrated breath, swinging again. When she misses a third time she swears, lashing out with her foot and knocking the bull into the wall when it connects.

Yasha rushes up next to her, dark energy crackling through her as she rages, and she swings her sword into the things side. She misses her first hit, but manages to slice into it with her second, spilling blood as black as oil across the floor. It snorts again, taking a step back, just as a second one bursts forth from the darkness.

With a deep breath, it blows a strange, gray gas at them all and Fjord coughs, waving the stuff out of his eyes. Around him, he sees Yasha, Beau, and Caleb quickly cover their faces, shielding their nose and mouth from the gas, but Jester and Caduceus aren’t quick enough and stone begins creeping up their legs.

He tries to rush forward to help, but his feet won't cooperate. Panicked, Fjord looks down, his heart skipping a beat when he sees the same affect happening to him. This isn’t good. This is not good at all.

Caduceus tries to move, finds that he can’t, and holds his hand out. His fingers flash for a moment and one of the bulls reels back, shaking its head furiously. The other one manages to shrug off whatever he did, it’s eyes darting towards Caduceus.

He stumbles back, somehow shaking off whatever it was the second bull did to him, and clutches his holy symbol. The first bull narrows its eyes, taking another step back, and then charges at him, running head first into him. It knocks him to the ground, reeling back much like it did with Fjord, and brings its hooves down, aiming for his leg. He rolls away from it, clutching at his wrist, and thankfully dodges out of the way.

Fjord, frustrated and unable to move, looks up at the sky and closes his eyes. He wonders if he could Misty Step out of this stone. He opens his eyes a moment later, looking over at Caleb standing near him, and sighs. He can’t leave Caleb alone. He summons more Eldritch energy, hitting the second bull with one jet while the other goes wide. Deep down, he knows staying put is a mistake, but he doesn't regret it.

Unlike Caduceus, he’s unable to shake off whatever the bull did to him, the stone enveloping his body quickly. The last thing he hears is Jester crying out his name before everything goes dark.

* * *

“FJORD!” Jester screams, struggling to get free from the stone rapidly forming up her legs. He’s a statue, too far for her to reach, and she can’t help the soft sob that bursts forth from her chest.

She has to save him; she can’t leave him like this. She grabs for her holy symbol, praying to the Traveler that this works, and casts Blink. She disappears with a popping sound, only to reappear exactly where’s she standing.

The spell failed.

“No,” she cries struggling to get free. She feels warm hands wrap around hers, the faint outline of a smiling face appearing before her, and she’s yanked free from the stone. She falls to her knees, gasping for breath, and the Traveler whispers softly in her ear,  _"St_ _ay safe._ ”

She nods and scrambles to her feet, watching as Caleb takes a step back and pulls out his caterpillar cocoon. He waves his hand around it, summoning an orange glow, and sends it spiraling towards the bull closest to Fjord. With a pop, it becomes a mouse.

“Don’t hit that mouse!” Caleb and Jester say together.

“Got it,” Beau responds and goes after the other bull, putting herself between it and Caduceus.

Her first attack connects, but her second one swipes through the air. She kicks out, knocking it away from her, and knocks it back another step with another roundhouse punch. She curses when her attempts to stun it doesn’t work.

Yasha moves towards the bull, swinging wide. She attacks again, her sword carving into the bull and it kicks its legs up, narrowly missing Beau’s face. It turns to face Yasha and hits her with its horns, splitting her side open, blood spilling down her leg and onto the floor. She ignores it, snarling and gripping her sword tightly. The bull kicks out with its hind legs, aiming for Beau again, but she jumps back, avoiding another hit.

Caduceus taps his staff against the floor and a warm glow envelopes Yasha. She looks over at him, confused, and he says, “For extra protection.”

She nods, still not quite understanding, and swings her sword at the bull but her aim is off a bit.

She swears.

The mouse bull scurries across the floor and heads towards Caleb. He manages to skip back when it tries to bite him, trying to avoid stepping on it, and it squeaks in fury. He turns to Fjord, expecting something from him, but he finds a stone statue where his friend once stood.

“Jester, can you help him?” he asks, turning to look at her desperately.

Tears cling to her eyelashes and she shrugs. “I don’t even know what it did to him."

“Try something. Please.”

She nods, swallowing heavily. “Okay.”

Caleb turns away from her, hitting the other bull with another ball of flame. It bounces off its hide, but it doesn’t seem to notice. Caleb swears softly under his breath.

Jester turns to hurry towards Fjord, but her Blink spell takes hold and she disappears. She reappears directly behind Caduceus.

“No,” she whispers squeezing her eyes shut. “No, put me closer to Fjord.”

Beau spares her a quick glance, confused as to why she needed to get to Fjord, and turns back to the bull. She swings her staff down, cracking it across the bull’s face. She punches it twice, striking it once more, and skips back when it huffs at her in anger.

Yasha steps forward, carving into the thing's back and it lets loose one final, pained scream before it collapses to the floor. Its black, oily blood pooling around it and causing the others to slip.

“Is everyone alright?” Beau asks, holding her freshly bleeding side, looking around to assess the damage.

“Not Fjord,” Jester says softly, but when she tries to move towards him her Blink spell goes off again and she appears near the room’s exit. Her angered curses echo off the walls as she tries to drop the spell.

Fjord is still standing where the bull had petrified him, one hand half raised as if to cast a spell. Caleb feels guilt settle in his chest. He’s done this by forcing them to come here. Fjord could be dead and it's all his fault.

Caduceus steps around the bull, carefully hurrying to Fjord’s side, and stops next to him, resting his hand on his face. He closes his eyes, speaking softly to the Wildmother, and the others watch in awe as a warm glow wraps around Fjord’s frame. A few seconds pass before the stone starts to crack, leaving behind a very much alive Fjord.

He gasps, bending over at the waste, and begins coughing harshly. Caduceus catches him when his knees give out and carefully lowers him to the floor, kneeling down next to him and murmuring softly in his ear.

“T-thank you,” Fjord whispers, clutching his chest. “That fucking sucked.”

“It’s no worries Mister Fjord,” Caduceus says softly, squeezing his shoulder. “I’m happy to help.” He turns to the others, furrowing his brow. “What do we do with the mouse?”

Caleb carefully picks it up, holding it by its tail. He shows it to the others, watching as it struggles in his grip, and he says, “We cannot harm this mouse.”

“Think it’ll be safe here?” Fjord asks curiously, shakily getting to his feet with Caduceus’ help.

“Maybe.” Caleb thinks for a moment before dropping the mouse into his pocket.

He ignores the odd looks from the others and slowly walks towards the door.

“I…” he trails off, hanging his head. “Be careful,” he says to the others and opens the door.

The room is empty except for a single chair sitting in the middle. Caleb ignores the chair.

"Nott," he calls into the room, stepping forward just as Caduceus grabs his shoulder. Impatient, he turns and says, "What is it?"

"Be careful," Caduceus says softly, looking worried.

Caleb looks down at his feet, feeling more guilt, and nods. "Ja."

He turns back to the door, squaring his shoulders, and steps forward. He hears shuffling feet, looking over his shoulder to see Fjord trailing behind him, and their eyes meet. They're both tired, wounded, and ready to get the hell out of here, but they know they can't leave without Nott. Fjord nods, letting Caleb know he has his back, and Caleb nods back and together they step further into the room.

A surge of green light envelopes them both, yanking them to the floor, and the door slams shut behind them. Fjord scrambles up, trying the knob and calling out to the others, but the door is locked. He looks back at Caleb, opening his mouth to say something, but he closes it when he sees what Caleb is staring at. Nott is tied to a pillar, struggling against the ropes binding her wrists. Together, they step forward to help her, but she frantically shakes her head.

"Wait!" she calls out just as another bolt of light, blue this time, explodes from the floor and surrounds them in a dome reminiscent of Caleb's tiny hut. Fjord reaches out, hissing when crackling electricity surges through his fingertips.

"What is this?" he asks, shaking his hand.

"A trap," Caleb responds sharply, his lip curling when a soft, cruel laugh fills the room.

"I'm beginning to think you've replaced me, Bren," Eodwulf says, appearing next to Nott. "Perhaps you have." His eyes settle on Fjord's face and he smirks. "It looks like you're going to see two of your friends die tonight."


End file.
